How To Train A Prince
by mellowfluffyangel
Summary: ROYAL AU Hiccup can be described in so many words: talking fish bone, sarcastic twerp, pathetic nerd, and the world's youngest uncertified Dragon Trainer. Not that the 'uncertified' part mattered since he's practically raised by dragons since birth. When secrets are uncovered and truths are revealed, Hiccup will be forced into his new role as the long lost Prince of Berk. HICCSTRID
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

He first felt the imprint of a hand against his back before his mind registered the immediate danger he was in. It took one hard push to send Hiccup sprawling on the floor. His good foot twisted at the ankle, sharp pain ran up and down the muscles of his right leg. Both of his palms bruised raw and bloodied from the impact against the rough concrete pavement – an unfortunate result of his inept attempt to break his fall.

The hallway was filled to the brim with students, yet not one ventured to help him out. From the peripheral of his vision, Hiccup noted that some smirked in satisfaction. A cackle of derision could be heard from behind. Other onlookers simply turned away, pretending not to see his need, simply too afraid to alleviate his predicament, and not wanting to be the next target of abuse.

He should be used to it by now.

Mocking taunts and jeers sometimes escalated into physical violence. It all depended on the type of bully he faced. All in all, cruelty served a permanent fixture in his day to day school life. They took him for an easy target – the nerdy new guy with a peg leg and a crappy haircut, who looked quite tall yet too thin and wore frayed clothing. Still, Hiccup schooled his features into an indifferent expression, not wanting to give his tormentors a reason to rejoice in his pain. Soon enough, the crowd dispersed, and a single woman stepped forward to offer an outstretched hand.

"Are you okay, Mr. Cloud?"

Hiccup rolled his eyes at the irony of that question but took the offered help nonetheless. It was a teacher, perhaps his homeroom advisor. Not that he bothered to know her name. After all, he never stayed within one school for more than a year or two, so she'll soon be a part of the faceless parade of people who barely had an impact in his life.

"The one who shoved you will be apprehended accordingly," The woman commented with a concerned frown as the disabled student struggled to brace his weight on the metal prosthetic, "Perhaps you should go to the infirmary first..."

"Perhaps I would, if I could walk, but you'll probably just watch me hobble off to my death," Hiccup drawled with a sneer then cocked his head to the side, "Care to escort me, oh great and mighty savior?"

His bawdy attempt at humor was met with a disapproving glare.

His teacher obviously lacked the proper acumen to appreciate his blazing wit. But then again, almost everyone he had met could not appreciate his sarcastic quips. And sometimes his sassiness earned him a quick punch to the face. Lightly biting the tip of his tongue, Hiccup opted to behave and held on to the proffered hand for support. No further words were exchanged as he slowly limped his way towards the infirmary. A nurse hurriedly led him to sit on a chair and carefully prodded his foot before wrapping it in bandages.

"Sprained by the looks of it," the nurse tittered, "It needs an ice compress and some rest. Perhaps he should be sent home?"

"Call his parents then," the teacher said, "I'll leave him to your care."

The door slammed shut, leaving them alone. The medical practitioner turned to the task of disinfecting his bruised palms. Hiccup hissed through gritted teeth, the wounds continued to painfully sting with each swipe of the antiseptic soaked cotton ball. Thinner bandages were swathed around his hands until it hid the injury from his sight. He was then instructed to lay down on one of the available hospice beds while the nurse retrieved his information sheet to find the mobile number of his one and only parent.

There he was, seventeen years old, with one metal prosthetic and a sprained foot, waiting for his mother to pick him up and drive him back home. Forest green eyes stared hard at the ceiling while the desire to punch something, anything, churned within his gut. He hated his life. He hated his situation. He hated the fact that he couldn't even call any tangible place as home. The Dragon Sanctuary at The Bush served as a pit stop, another government protected environmental area his mother was designated to work at. After a year or two the infamous Valka Cloud, Dragon Trainer extraordinaire, would be called upon to work in another country and in another Sanctuary. Uprooting their little family to another unfamiliar place became the norm.

It took two hours for his mother to arrive and by that time Hiccup had already counted every crack on the wall and also noted every pesky insect within the room. Valka's slim form was graceful with every step she took. The simple white shirt and khaki pants she wore accented her figure nicely, her waist length auburn hair held back by a twine of leather at the nape. Muddied combat boots completed the rugged Dragon Trainer look.

Valka's beatific smile immediately turned into a frown as she sat on the edge of her son's bed.

"Are you alright?" she whispered in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine mom," Hiccup sighed, "I can barely walk and my hands feel like the skin's been flayed off and I need a big dose of painkillers for my leg."

Gentle fingers gently touched the bandages neatly wrapped around Hiccup's foot. "What happened?"

This was the part he hated the most. No proper explanation could excuse the viciousness of his peers. All his life, Hiccup knew he was a target, one born with a gigantic bull's eye on his back.

"Well this school is more brutal than the rest," he shrugged nonchalantly, "The last one just made fun of my name. Which is understandable, by the way, since no sane parent would name their precious child as a 'Hiccup'."

He spat the name with such venom that Valka's eyes widened and she reacted in turn. "Would you stop that?"

"Why should I?" Hiccup said, bitterness seeping in his tone, "All my troubles had originated from a name that seemed to attract bullying bastards like a pack of flies to a pile of dung."

"Your name might be a bit different," his mother insisted kindly, "but it is an honorable, traditional family name given to you by your grandfather."

"A grandfather whom I have never met…" he snapped back. "Not to mention that I never met my dad either."

Mother and son exchanged antagonistic glares. The tension in the air was suddenly thick and suffocating to the point that the room felt too small and uncomfortable.

"Hiccup…"

"Don't…" he looked away, his fists clenching in resentment, "Don't tell me that it is okay. You don't know what I've been through. How they laugh at me, how treat me differently…"

Valka briefly closed her eyes, her anger melting away into regretful sorrow. She had too many regrets in her life, too many mistakes. That her son had to suffer the consequences of those bad decisions made and done…

It hurt a lot.

"Someday you will understand why you have been named as such," she smoothed the long auburn fringe covering his face, "someday you will know why our circumstances are what they are but for now…"

Valka rose to her feet and urged him with a hesitant smile.

"Come, child, it is time for you to come home."

-o-0-o-

Dragon Sanctuary was located an hour and a half away from the suburbia hell where his current school was located at. Asphalt paved streets soon gave way to gravel ridden dirt roads. The heat felt unforgiving out here in The Bush and the rented jeep's air conditioning was unable to keep up with the soaring high temperatures. In the far distance, Hiccup could see the mountains ranges that stood out in the horizon. Varied species of trees peppered the land and tufts of bright green dragon grass swayed in the breeze. Above in the bright blue sky, he could hear the distant roaring and crooning of the majestic beasts. He spied a fat yellow Gronkle lazily fly overhead with a purple Deadly Nadder fast in pursuit.

Home was a rectangular canvas tent the size of a small two-bedroom apartment. Hiccup grinned widely, spying his honorary Uncle lumber out of their shared living space, the feeling of emptiness in his heart replaced by sudden warmth. With a quick stomp on the brakes, his mother parked the jeep in front of their temporary home. Valka Cloud welcomed her co-worker and dearest friend with a wave of her hand.

"There you are! What happened to your lad?"

"Hey, Gobber!" Hiccup wiggled his bandaged hands, "Some arsehole pushed me in the hallway. I also sprained my ankle, bruised my palms, and got laughed at."

"Did you bash the vagrant's skull in?" Gobber raised his prosthetic hand and did a rude gesture. "It's not worth the pain if yah didn't hit them back."

"Don't teach my son your war mongering ways, you smelly old fart." Valka chastised in turn. She removed the key from the ignition, stepped out of the jeep, and snorted at her friend.

"Come on, lass, I'm a dentist and a harmless one at that," the older man chortled, "the most violent act that I have done would be wrestling a Monstrous Nightmares to remove some rotted teeth," he gave Hiccup a saucy wink, "Hardly violent if yah ask me."

They all shared a hearty good laugh. Gobber the Belch might be a fearsome sight to behold with his enormous six foot three stature and braided blonde beard, but he's as cuddly as teddy bear when it came to the people he cared about. They might not be related through flesh and blood, but they were family nonetheless.

Hiccup slid from his seat and barely touched his feet on steady ground when a distinctive screech suddenly whistled in the air. With a mighty roar, an incoming black blur flew as fast as a bullet through the sky. Valka and Gobber hardly had any time to scamper out of the way as a gamboling dragon the size of a pick-up truck attacked Hiccup with the power of tongue. The auburn haired teenager helplessly backed himself against the posterior of the jeep and he cackled in delight as the unholy offspring of lightning and death slobbered all over him.

"Come one, bud!" Hiccup groaned, "You know that doesn't wash out!" Sticky dragon saliva covered his whole face and hair and half of his sweatshirt. The substance had a distinct au natural odor of rotted fish and bad breath.

His mother merely smirked in amusement. "I think Toothless missed you quite a lot," Valka gestured to the dragon currently nuzzling its gigantic head against her son's chest. Toothless' prosthetic fitted tail wagged in delight, looking more like an overgrown puppy rather than a feral monster that could kill a human with a well-aimed plasma blast.

"Well, I'm sure there's a better way for him to show me any affection other than 'coat my rider with the stinky breath of death'" he snarked, flicking some drool back at his dragon. Toothless scowled but butted his head into Hiccup's chest once more.

"How's the foot?" Gobber asked.

The young man puckered his brow as he patted the Night Fury's head. He shifted his injured foot then winced. The twisted muscles definitely felt sore underneath the bandages.

"Still hurting like a bitch," Hiccup said as he grabbed his mother's wooden staff from the back of the jeep. He leaned against it, using it as a temporary crutch to brace his injury. "There would be no dragon riding or training for me until it's properly healed but I've had worse injuries." He pointed a finger to the amputated left leg as a testament to that. Toothless crooned in disappointment, light yellow green eyes dilating when he realized his rider would be grounded for the time being, his gummy smile gave way to a silly draconic version of an adorable pout.

The sound of powerful flapping wings signalled the arrival of another dragon. Twice the size of a Night Fury and equipped with two sets of bat-like wings, Cloudjumper looked majestic as he descended gracefully to greet his rider. Valka scratched her beloved companion underneath the jaw and the reptile warbled contently like a purring cat. Eerie golden yellow eyes blinked double lids like a nocturnal owl.

If Cloudjumper was already here, then the other dragons would soon return from their daily feeding trips. The reptilian beasts had to fly to the edge of the property in order to reach a river where they can catch salmon and cod, only to come back to the stables before twilight fell. The Bush, like all other Dragon Sanctuaries in the world, served as a reserve where dragons can lay eggs and live in relative safety. Constant threats from poachers, hunters, and trappers had decreased draconic population to the point that certain species were battling eventual extinction.

Toothless and Cloudjumper were probably the last of their kind.

"We should start to prepare our dinner," Valka lifted the flap of their tent, "Come inside, son." She shooed the Night Fury and Stormcutter dragons away and gestured Hiccup to go in.

"I'll cook," Gobber volunteered immediately, "No offense, lass, but yer cooking isn't fantastic. Yer meatballs could kill more beasts than a battle axe."

"Yet you survived," the brunette shrugged, "but by all means the kitchen is yours."

Their living space can be called utilitarian, their lifestyle obviously nomadic. Rarely have they bought anything of value, opting to keep just an essential few that can be moved to and fro on dragon back. Three futons lain on the dirt floor served as a bedroom. Several pieces of clean clothing hung on a line of string attached near the tent's ceiling. Hiccup settled himself on one of the available chairs and placed his crutch beside the collapsible table in their dining area while Valka placed crockery on its wooden surface. A portable generator cranked out electricity, providing well needed light through some LED bulbs, and powering the television - their one and only luxury that connected them to the civilized world.

Outside their living quarters would be a bath that consisted of a wooden tub and a pail - only used whenever it rained. Just a few steps away would be a makeshift forge where a Hotburple dragon called Grump snoozed the whole day away. With Hiccup and Gobber's blacksmithing expertise, they easily crafted dragon teeth and metal prosthetics for injured dragons. Saddles for riding would only be made whenever good quality leather was available for purchase. The forge also served as a haphazard kitchen with its deeply dug bonfire and iron spit.

Gobber could be heard singing off-tune as he basted, rubbed herbs, and seasoned a raw slab of meat. The pork loin was then speared and hot dragon fire roasted it to sizzling perfection. Mouth watering scents pervaded the tent the moment the blacksmith and part-time dentist came back inside. The family eagerly gathered around to partake of their meal and the television was turned on as part of routine. For a while, the clinking of cutlery was accompanied by the informative chatter of advertisements. Then a male news anchor suddenly flashed on screen to relay a special report.

 _A tragedy has descended upon one of the small countries in the Barbaric Archipelago. The Kingdom of Berk mourns the loss of its leaders due to a car accident that occurred approximately at eight hundred hours. Initial police reports say that no foul play has occurred and that the driver had simply lost control of the vehicle. All passengers have died upon impact and there are no survivors…_

Hiccup narrowed his eyes, noticing Gobber's grave look of dread. His mother's face suddenly drained of all color, looking as pale and haunting as a ghost. A recording of a smashed car with broken glass littering the blood soaked asphalt was featured. Several police officers circled the horrifying scene. Each of their faces held grim expressions.

 _A public funeral will be held to allow the Berkian citizens to mourn the much beloved rulers. Monarchs, Prime Ministers, and Presidents from all over the world will be invited to attend the sombre occasion…_

The next video showed a gathering of grief stricken men and women leaving bouquets of flowers and lighting candles in front of a medieval looking castle. Some were crying, some offered prayers and condolences.

 _With the loss of its monarchs, it is believed that the oldest son, Stoick 'the Vast' Haddock will be crowned King…_

A mountain of a man with an enormous ginger braided beard and determined eyes briefly graced the screen before the television suddenly blacked out.

"Hey, I was watching that!" Hiccup glowered when Gobber pulled the plug from the electrical socket.

"Best fer us to not watch such a morbid story, lad." the older man gestured towards the only woman in their family who continued to stare at blankly at the T.V.

Hiccup frowned, observing his mother hug herself in discomfort.

Something was wrong.

"Mom, are you okay?"

He had never seen her act like this, so affected and disturbed. Quite peculiar since it was a news story about an obscure kingdom located at the opposite side of the world. Several minutes passed by before Valka composed herself. She took a deep breath and sipped from a tumbler of water before regarding Hiccup with a determined stare.

"Do you want to relocate to another school again?"

"What?" The abrupt change of topic baffled her young son. Several questions wanted to burst from the tip of Hiccup's tongue but he halted.

It was his mother's eyes that stopped him. Valka's looked at him earnestly, silently pleading him not to probe further. There was a sense of desperation in her wanting to move on to the new topic at hand and Hiccup was forced to swallow his pride, leaving the mystery untouched for now.

"No," he answered, brutally honest, "I do not want to relocate. I hate school, any school for that matter." Hiccup stabbed his medium-rare meat with a fork, "I'd rather drop out than enroll in another one."

"Perhaps a new environment would prove tah be a better choice?" Gobber wisely advised, "Yer teachers should have been taking care of yah and punishing those bullying bastards. In mah day, when someone gets pushed, we punch back," he raised a fist and jabbed in demonstration, "No dilly-dallying needed, giving a black eye is the best way to handle delicate matters."

"Teacher intervention rarely works and hitting them back in the face would just get me into more trouble," Hiccup shrugged, "Sure, the guy pushed me in the hall today probably got detention for a week, but those kinds of arseholes always finds a way to retaliate. I should know, since I've been bullied in every school I've been in," he deadpanned, "Why can't I just skip all this educational bullshit and just be a Dragon Trainer?"

Valka rubbed the bridge of her nose and felt an oncoming migraine rearing its ugly head. She sighed at her son's naivety.

"The world values education. Those who don't finish their studies are frowned upon by the population at large."

"So what?," Hiccup snorted, "I have ridden dragons since I was five and trained my first Terrible Terror since I was three. I don't need certification."

"But rules are rules," Valka drove the point in, "And those rules are there for a reason. Your uncle and I have to apply for a yearly license in order to legally stay and work within Sanctuaries. Without it, we lose the right to interact with dragons. The only reason why you can still live here with us is because you are still a minor fully dependent upon me."

"Unfortunately, yer mother's right, lad," Gobber said, earning Valka's grateful smile but gaining Hiccup's ire in return. "No Dragon Sanctuary will hire someone without proper paperwork. Best for yah to finish yer studies, get a scholarship and a degree in Dragon Biology in some fancy college, then come back here in the wild to work with the family."

And that exactly was the crux of the problem.

Hiccup cursed, unable to curb his mounting frustration. Dropping out of school meant that he had to say goodbye to Toothless...

And the only way he could avoid that would be to study diligently until he acquired a diploma.

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

He could already see the answer in their faces.

Shit.

Hiccup swallowed thickly and pushed his plate away, "I'm going out." He grabbed the wooden staff for support then he stood on his feet to limp his way towards the exit.

"Son…"

He stiffened, pausing for a moment to gaze back at his distraught mother.

"I'm not angry at you or Gobber, it's just…" he raised a bandaged hand to pull tightly at his auburn hair, "I just need some space, some time to think. I'll be back before midnight."

They watched the boy lift the flap of the tent and disappear outside. A loud excited croon could be heard as Toothless greeted his favorite human. Valka scowled indignantly when she heard the telltale movement of wings. Her son's laughter faded into the distance and she knew all too well that Hiccup deliberately disobeyed the nurse's orders and took off on another midnight flight.

"That boy is so hard headed," she scoffed, "He's going to lose his other foot if he's not careful."

"Hiccup's going tah be fine, Val." Gobber assured, patting her shoulder with his prosthetic hand, "The lad's made out of sterner stuff being descended from a distinguished bloodline of boar-headed stubborn Vikings, eh. And speaking of bloodlines," with a twitch of his beard he gestured towards the television, "What are yah going to do about that?"

Valka turned away and started clearing the dishes, a pensive frown shown on her face. "I don't know what you are talking about." she denied, causing Gobber to snort loudly. The blonde dentist crossed his muscled arms, rolled his eyes, and gave a distinct expression of 'are-you-bloody-kidding-me?'

"Don't insult yer own intelligence by pretending to be ignorant."

"Does it matter?" Valka pursed her lips, "It would be better if he doesn't know the truth…"

"Better for whom? Stoick or Hiccup? Because yer son needs to know that he has a father and his father has a right to know that he has a son. Yah can't keep this a secret forever, Val." he warned gravely, making his friend flinch slightly. "Someday the truth will come out and it might come out in a way that affects everyone."

To be continued...

 **A/N: Hello dear reader! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this tale. This is a modern AU, by the way, that is also inspired by all the 'Hiccup is raised with Valka and Cloudjumper' fics out there. The storyline is loosely based on a movie. I'm not going to say which one. Feel free to guess.**

 **P.S. I don't have a beta reader so there might be a lot of grammatical mistakes. English is, unfortunately, only my second language.**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Thick blackened clouds stretched across the Kingdom of Berk as rain pelted down from the heavens, the gloomy weather mirrored the somber mood occurring beyond the palace walls. Stoick 'the Vast' Haddock sat still within his wingback chair, his eyes narrowed as he observed the hazy world outside his windows. Two days has passed since the ill-fated accident but even now the public outpoured their support. Colorful umbrellas sheltered those who mourned from the relentless downpour, while journalists and newscasters mingled amongst the crowd, looking for a quick story to sell. A small mountain of floral bouquets blocked the massive iron gates and rainwater drenched pictures of the dead monarchs that lay littered on the ground.

He should have been grieving with them, his people.

Yet his eyes remained dry, and his emotions churned like an oncoming storm.

For seventeen years, he had willingly followed his father's orders, doing his best to meet all expectations with no questions asked. He acted as the perfect son considered first-in-line to the throne. Not knowing that behind his back his own kin betrayed him, lied to him, and kept him in the dark about a secret so monumental that once put to light it turned his whole world upside down.

The fact that Stoick could barely stand the thought of attending his parents' elaborate state-funded funeral reflected the depths of his emotional turmoil.

Swiveling his upholstered leather seat, he turned away from the solemn scene and paid attention to the photograph lain atop his mahogany desk. Beefy fingers traced the face of the cherubic child held within the arms of his beloved. The boy, who he approximated to be about two years old, inherited his forest green eyes and Valka's reddish brown locks. The picture looked crisp, almost brand new; a telltale clue that it had been kept hidden from prying eyes and oily fingertips for almost two decades.

That Stoick even found the photo could be considered a miracle in itself.

For all evidence of the deceit had been sealed away, secreted within a concealed vault in the King's Study – a room that, by all rights, now belonged to him.

A knock was heard and the door slightly opened. A bearded man with a bald head shuffled in with one hand clutching a silver pocket watch, his dark blue eyes noting every tick.

"It's time, Your Majesty," Silent Sven, his most trusted advisor named after his peculiar talent of being near invisible unless summoned, informed, "I have also instructed Bucket and Mulch to execute what you have commanded."

For a moment, both advisor and monarch shared a knowing glance.

"Inform me of any developments concerning the retrieval immediately. Make sure no one else has an inkling of the situation."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Sven thumped one gloved hand above his heart and bowed low in respect, then swung the double doors wide open.

Stoick acknowledged his subject with a slight nod of his head then he slid the precious photo into his breast pocket, keeping it close to his heart. Now was not the time to think of betrayal and of the future. The public needed to mourn with him, the king-to-be, acknowledging the loss of their leaders with all the pomp and extravagance that the kingdom could provide.

He stood tall, hands briefly straightening the lapels of his suit, and came out of the King's Study with a purposeful strode. Polished dress shoes stomped none too delicately upon the intricately weaved vermilion runner underneath his feet. Silken tapestries lined the hallway before him and each antique showcased embroidered battles won by royal ancestors leading Berk into victory. Gold-plated chandeliers glittered from the vaulted ceiling above his head; the use of candles replaced by modern bulbs for lighting. Oil portraits of the Kings of Old lined the stone walls in-between arched gothic windows, their intricately painted eyes hard with determination and their mouths hidden beneath distinctive beards.

At the end of the hall, a tall and handsome burly figure awaited him. Tension crackled in the air as each man sized up the other, acting too much like territorial dragons before the newcomer welcomed Stoick with an excessively mocking bow.

"Brother..."

"Spitelout..."

A lazy smirk appeared from the man now walking by his side.

"What horrid circumstances," he said. "Father and your mother ready to be buried six feet under. Aren't you excited?"

Stoick raised one bushy red eyebrow at that, "The whole kingdom is mourning. Excitement is not a word I would describe our dire circumstances."

"Perhaps," Spitelout smacked his lips, "but the passing of the crown is exciting in itself. Just say the word, brother, and I can step up to take the kingship away from you," the words more of an underlying threat than jest, "but for now, I'll settle for you declaring Snotlout as your heir presumptive."

Slowing in his gait, Stoick meticulously studied his half-sibling. Raven haired and lacking the distinct Haddock reddish locks, Spitelout Jorgenson's features betrayed the illegitimacy of his heritage - a bastard son from one of the late king's concubines; one accepted as family but never recognized legally.

"Why should I?" the king-to-be challenged.

"You don't have an heir," Spitelout stated, "I, on the other hand, already have a son - a prince whose lineage can be traced back to the Kings of Ages Past."

"Snotlout is not fit to be King."

"Hogwash," the younger brother waved an impatient hand in dismissal, "He is a child, thus immature. Give him time to grow and he will become a King fit to be remembered through sagas and songs."

"I doubt that," Stoick grumbled, "I've seen my nephew act more like a fool than a prince groomed to take over a whole kingdom," he shook his head, knowing too well of flaws concerning the boy's personality, "Your son is too arrogant and self-absorbed to be diplomatic, and too brash to think wisely. Pushing the child into the role of Crown Prince would spell disaster for Berk."

His companion merely rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"You don't have a choice," Spitelout reminded him, "You need to declare an heir in six month's time right after the appropriate mourning period is over in order to be crowned King. You don't have a wife or child. Without an heir, the problem of your succession will become a troublesome dilemma. Plunging our kingdom into uncertainty is not advisable in these trying times." The raven haired man's smirk turned menacingly shark-like when he regarded his older brother's unusual silence.

Stoick pursed his lips into a thin line and kept his expression neutral. The paper thin photo hidden within his breast pocket suddenly felt like a dead weight in its crucial importance.

No, he didn't need Snotlout.

Not anymore.

 _Not when he already has an heir, a son. A true prince with Haddock blood running through his veins..._

A son whom Stoick vowed to locate even if it meant he had to search the whole world.

-o-0-o-

Hiccup's shoulders stiffened the moment a figure overshadowed his seat. His sketchpad was snatched from his desk then dangled in front of the class for all to see.

"Drawing dragons once again, Mr. Cloud?" his math teacher wrinkled his nose at the rough sketches of Toothless' gummy smile, "It seems your obsession with these reptilian creatures is quite unnatural."

"Maybe he wants to fuck one!" someone called out from the back of the room. The schoolteacher merely reprimanded the arsehole for using foul language while the rest of his classmates sniggered as if on cue.

Squaring his jaw, Hiccup swallowed the sarcastic retort that desperately wanted to rage from his throat, knowing all too well that retaliation only made matters worse. Three weeks had passed since the unfortunate 'accident' in the hallway and the verbal taunting had not abated at all. The sprain in his ankle had thankfully healed since then. No longer needing bandages for his foot nor did he need to rely on a crutch to get around. He stuck to the sidelines and kept his head low, just in case, to steer clear from any further physical altercations.

Hiccup really did not want to attract any unwanted attention.

Well, tough luck with that.

"If you want to get this back, then perhaps you should solve the equation of the week." his teacher announced, "You know the drill. If you answer correctly, then you are exempted from the midterm exams. Answer incorrectly, and everyone else gets additional course work."

The class groaned in unison, immediately expecting the worst outcome. Putting students in such a conundrum was a favourite proclivity of this particular arsehole educator. He only gave one chance, only one, to solve the infuriatingly difficult college-level calculus equation yet none had succeeded so far.

Hiccup felt every judging stare as he slowly sauntered towards the front of the room. Bright green eyes flashed briefly as he scrutinized the complicated mathematical equation, its chalk white numbers a stark contrast to the dark surface of the board. For a few seconds, Hiccup stood still, his mind whirring like clockwork. Then his nimble fingers grasped a thin piece of chalk and began to write as if his life depended on it. On and on he wrote, his left hand seemingly having a life of its own, and the class watched in astonishment as his answer encompassed the whole board.

"Can I go now?" his question seemed to break the sudden hush in the room.

The math teacher's eyes widened, his jaw dropping in utter amazement. A bell rang loudly from somewhere and it jolted everyone out of their trance like state. Without further ado, Hiccup reclaimed his rightful property then grabbed the bag hidden underneath his seat, not wanting to waste a minute more as he hastily exited out of the door. The hallway outside buzzed with activity as most students readied themselves to go home. He kept his auburn head bent down, allowing his fringe to cover his features, and walked on.

 _'Just one year,'_ he repeated in his head, _'just one damn year and I'll be out of here...'_

Hiccup thought of Toothless, of Sharpshot, and all the other dragons that he had trained all over the years. He thought of Gobber, his mother, and all the wondrous responsibilities of what being a Dragon Trainer entailed. All that he wanted to achieve rested on the importance of a diploma, high grades, and a scholarship that he needed badly.

The hardships he endured paled in comparison to the importance of his goal.

A thick mob of bystanders gathered in front of the school yard, blocking the only way out into the streets. Hiccup grumbled, pissed off at the commotion, wanting nothing more than to go straight back home and fly on Toothless' back. He could barely spy the reason for the uproar and had to stretch his neck to do so. Then he saw it, a sleek black limousine parked right in front of the building with two oddly dressed bearded men standing by the vehicle's open door. Their stocky bodies wore finely sewn dark green military jackets, strange looking helmets sat upon their heads, and their gloved hands gripped an enlarged picture of a mother and child.

"Do yah think he'll be here, Mulch?" the one wearing a metal bucket on his head, of all things, wondered.

"I dunno, Bucket," the one wearing the horn like helmet shrugged. "Silent Sven said the last bank transfer was a payment for an enrollment to this school. Our target's got tah be around here somewhere."

Hiccup pushed his way to the front of the murmuring crowed, his inquisitive eyes narrowing conspicuously at the coloured photograph held high by the two strangers.

"That looks eerily familiar..." he whispered to himself. It was as if he had seen it somewhere, someplace before. Then realization hit him like a well flung bola. Instantly, he knew who that woman was. He knew that face shape, that smile, and those soulful eyes...

He couldn't help himself when he screamed.

"That's my mother!"

Every head in the vicinity swung towards his position. Hiccup cringed, inwardly hating himself for accidentally attracting the attention that he desperately wanted to deflect. The man with the bucket for a hat cocked his head to the side and studied him intently.

"Eh? Yah know Valka Cloud?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." Hiccup glared. He ripped the photo from their hands, wanting nothing more than to trash source of his public humiliation. "Why the hell are you flashing my school with a picture of my mother?" he growled, curling his hands into fists, ambling for a fight. Then he realized the identity of the smiling babe and recoiled in horror. "Is this a practical joke?!"

They blinked. Both men landed a stern hand on his shoulder, fingers gripping tightly as they leaned forward to scrutinize him from the top of his messy reddish brown head to the Gronkle iron of his home-made peg leg.

"Is yer name Hiccup then?"

The young man furrowed his brows, "How do you know my name?"

Both men grinned triumphantly.

"I didn't think it would be this easy!" Bucket said.

"Oh boy," Mulch nodded, "Thank Thor for good luck!"

Hiccup could only yelp loudly as the pair of hooligans shoved him right through the limo's open door.

-o-0-o-

The sun shone brightly over the wild bush lands as white puffs of clouds lazily crawled across the skyline. Here, a hundred feet up in the air, everything looked miniscule and oddly beautiful. Valka could only smile in exhilaration as the dizzying height made the rampaging river below appear nothing more than a thick crooked blue line slashed across the rough landscape. The cold breeze played with her hair, giving her relief from the intense afternoon heat.

It felt freeing. There were no boundaries here, no pressures. The wide open sky gave the illusion of space eternal.

Bending her knees, Valka adjusted her balance, riding atop Cloudjumper with the ease of a seasoned Dragon Rider. Unlike her son and old friend, she did not believe in equipping dragons with constrictive leather saddles; only trusting her beloved Stormcutter to never let her fall.

"Let's go back to the stables, dear friend," she patted the dragon's head before lifting an arm to wave her staff, causing the small pebbles inserted within its curved bone ends to rattle loudly. Her beloved reptile trilled in delight as they quickly turned around and rose faster, higher. A myriad of draconic species followed suit from behind.

It would not take them long to reach their living quarters, the travel by air relatively shorter than if she traveled on land. The illusion of freedom would then fade away. That little tent symbolized responsibilities and schedules, tedious things to tend to, and a troublesome son to pick up from school.

Valka scowled, the thought of her errant child souring her once jovial mood. Conversing with Hiccup felt like pulling teeth these days – tiresome, painful, and absolutely frustrating. Gone was the small adorable boy who snuggled against his mother's side for comfort. The adolescent version preferred to lash out, not knowing what else to do with all that bottled up rage. Deep within, Valka acknowledged the gravity of the boy's situation yet she felt powerless, unable to stop the abuse.

Cloudjumper steadily flew lower and lower as they neared their destination. Instinctively, Valka dropped into a crouch, one hand spread flat against the dragon's flank for support. The canvas tent was still half a mile away but trepidation suddenly struck like lightning through her veins. For there, situated right in front of her home, was a vehicle she had never seen before, sleek and as black as night and polished until it gleamed under the sunlight, it stood out as an oddity in a terrain brimming with wildlife. Valka did not have an inkling of who owned the limousine, but she knew one thing...

It meant trouble.

"Valka! There yah are!"

She heard Gobber yell her name as she landed safely on rocky ground. Valka slipped off Cloudjumper and rubbed her dragon's jaw before facing her dear friend with a determined scowl.

"Gobber, what's happening? Is everything alright?"

"Eh," the blonde man winced and wiped the sweat off his brow, "I thought yah would be home soon. We have a wee problem at hand."

Her green eyes widened in surprise. That did not bode well. She spared a glance at the tent and thought of the worst case scenario.

"Is the government cutting off our funding?"

As Dragon Trainers, they lived off grants and governmental support. Losing either of those would be crippling and devastatingly so.

"Oh boy, this is a bit more complicated than that, lass." Gobber rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. "I really hate to be the harbinger of bad news, but I guess yah should come inside and find out fer yerself..."

For a moment, she hesitated, her slim fingers gripping her staff as if it was a lifeline. Her instincts warned her to run away, to jump on her dragon's back, and to flee into the far distance. What she was afraid of? She knew not, yet the irrational feeling persisted, even as she squared her shoulders and decided to face her fears. She lifted the tent's flap and prepared herself to defend the reserve's funding.

Then her breath caught in her throat. Her whole world crashed around her.

For there, treating one of their chairs as if it was a throne was Stoick the Vast.

To be continued...

 **A/N: The conversation between Spitelout and Stoick happened two days after Chapter 1. Hiccup's kidnapping and Stoick's appearance would be three weeks after the funeral. The pacing is a bit fast but I wanted to bring Hiccup to Berk by Chapter 4 where he will meet Astrid and the gang. The next chapter would be about those damn Stalka feels and some father and son bonding.**

 **Thank you for all your reviews, for following my story, and adding it to your favourites list. I feel overwhelmed by the response and I appreciate everything.**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Her breath lodged in her throat as her heart pounded faster, fear gripping her whole as a recurring theme of her nightmares came alive before her eyes. Over the years, Valka wondered if her mistakes would one day cause her own downfall, knowing all too well that her sins counted too numerous to be forgiven. Yet she kept hoping, wishing, that her faults would be forgotten and eventually chipped away by the passage of time. The man whom she used to love became a phantom that plagued her mind, but he was here in the flesh, no longer just a figment of her imagination.

Stoick rose to his feet and took an eager step towards her.

"Valka..."

He whispered her name like an answered prayer, the timbre of his voice so soft and familiar. The tension in the air suddenly rose to a fever pitch and the urge to run away too tempting to take. Yet Valka froze, unable to move, the shock of seeing a ghost from her past effectively keeping her in place.

"Stoick," she gasped his name, "Could it be? How is this possible?"

She stared at his face in wonder, studying the palpable differences that two decades had wrought. The bright red flame of his hair now interspersed with strands of white, the once smooth and sharp line of his jaw now concealed beneath a bushy braided beard that almost reached his waistline. Stoick stood taller, his body definitely more stout, yet his eyes remained the same, so green and so endearing just like her son's.

Just like her Hiccup.

Valka trembled, one hand clutching her staff tightly against her chest as her mind supplied the only plausible reason as to why the father of her child had suddenly appeared back into her life.

"You know about Hiccup?" she questioned.

Stoick's mouth lifted into a joyful smile as she mentioned the name of his babe, his mirth adding a certain twinkle to his eyes. He nodded once, twice, and reached out to touch the slender curve of her shoulder just to make sure that she was real and alive, but his beloved flinched and looked away.

"I... I know what you are going to say," Valka started defensively, "How could I have done this. Stayed away all these years and kept your boy away from you," her voice shook as he took another step closer, "and I never once thought to let you know of our son..."

Guilt ate right through her defenses, her stomach roiled in constant tension. Inwardly, she mourned the relationship she once had with this man. Stoick used to be her pillar of strength, a steadfast support to lean on in the midst of the chaos that she considered as her life. Even so, she left him and threw everything away, like dust blown away by a sudden gust of wind. Valka hunched her shoulders and tried to steer clear from his scalding touch, but the rough canvas of the tent bumped against her back, trapping her in place.

She had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

"I know I left you and raised Hiccup alone," she continued on, "but I thought that you would be better off without us."

She closed her eyes and she finished her confession, waiting for him to strike back, to react harshly, to scream and hate her as she deserved. But the red headed man kept resolutely silent and unnaturally calm. Valka finally snapped.

"Oh, stop being stoic, Stoick! Say something!" she screamed.

A lone tear trickled down her cheek when two warm, gentle hands cupped the sides of her face. Her eyelids fluttered open as she felt Stoick's thumb tenderly caress her skin. Forest green eyes gazed into her with such emotion and his love shone brightly like the sun.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost yah."

His words speared through her and gutted her with regret and grief. They gazed into one another's eyes, his filled with warmth while hers still questioned his quiet acceptance with apprehension. Stoick leaned forward, molding his mouth against her lips with a burning passion that wanted to devour her whole. One by one, the protective walls she had constructed around her heart collapsed into rubble. Her fingers loosened their grip around her staff and it fell, clattering against the ground.

"I'm here now," Stoick murmured to her ear as she sobbed against his chest, dampening his shirt with her tears. He left soft kiss upon her temple, then he looked up and vowed to the heavens, "and I will never, ever, let you disappear again."

-o-0-o-

Hiccup winced, fingers gingerly rubbing at the side of his head in an attempt to chase away his sudden migraine. His head spun at the unpredictable turn of events, remembering all too well how he got shoved into the now moving vehicle without his consent.

"I just got kidnapped," he pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned loudly, "Oh great. I'm in trouble again."

Pushing himself off the floor, he clambered to the top of the backseat and quickly re-adjusted his loosened prosthetic. He checked the doors and found them tightly locked, finding no other way to escape unless his abductors decided to let him go. He could try to jump out of the window but that would be suicidal if he factored in the car's speed.

Hiccup looked around, deciding to note every critical detail. Perhaps he could find a telephone to call his mother or to alert the police. Then he frowned, not liking what he saw.

Someone with a lot of cash to spare obviously owned this limousine. Every inch of its elegantly embellished interior screamed of privilege and snobbery. He found the overt display of extravagance quite grating, especially since his family sometimes skirted the edge of poverty. It also made him nervous. The situation suddenly seemed more dangerous. The last time his mother pissed off someone wealthy, that person turned out to be a crime boss who wanted to own a dragon illegally.

A divider separated him from the driver's side and an intricate gold crest with the word 'Haddock' was embossed on its surface. Hiccup raised a hand and knocked rapidly until a whirring sound filled the car. The partition slowly rolled down and revealed the two men who kidnapped his skinny arse.

"Hello, strange hostile strangers whom I have never met," Hiccup cocked his head to the side and gave a winning smile. "Can you please stop the car and let me out so I can go on my way home? Just let me get off somewhere, preferably a place that has a working payphone so I can call my mother and she can pick me up from there."

"No can do, yer Royal Highness," the blonde man with the bucket for a hat turned around and gave him a quick salute.

Hiccup blinked, "Is 'yer Royal Highness' a code word for an idiot because I'm pretty sure I'm not a royal asshole and my blood is red not blue." He wrinkled his nose and snorted at the impossible insinuation, "I think you got it all wrong," he told them, "I know that was my mother's picture but you've probably mistaken me and her for someone else."

"Isn't yer name Hiccup?" the one driving asked.

"Yes, that's my name," he agreed lightly, "but everyone around here knows that I'm a pathetic twerp. Skinny not-so-little me as an aristocratic what's it?" He tried to laugh his nervousness off, "Really, that's ridiculous. You obviously got the wrong guy..."

Hiccup turned up the charm and grinned to show off his pearly whites, silently persuading his hostage takers to believe that they made a mistake. Honestly, they seemed friendly enough, although they would be a bit touched in the head if they believed all that royal crap they've been spewing. If he can't escape on his own then perhaps it's time for him to change tactics and negotiate his way out.

"Well, since we are going to spend some quality time together, can I have your names?" he asked. Noting details about the enemy would always be a good move. It would also helped tremendously when he'd be able to report them to the authorities.

"Eh, I'm Bucket," the blonde man said, "and he's Mulch." The driver with darker hair and a pointy helmet waved a gloved hand.

Hiccup raised his brow. Weird names he can get on with, though he hoped those code names did not translate to something sinister.

"Look, Bucket and Mulch," he said, "I don't want any trouble. But please, I just want to warn you about my mother," Hiccup's expression turned serious and tried to intimidate them with menacing scowl, "She is terrifying and owns a dragon bigger than this car and she'll panic like a hungry Skrill when she finds out that I'm not where I'm supposed to be."

The auburn haired boy frowned when his blonde kidnapper merely shrugged, unconcerned. There goes his tactic to intimidate the enemy.

"Are yah always this talkative, Sir?" the one steering the wheel suddenly piped up. He turned to his companion and said, "I've always thought that all Haddocks were enormous silent-but-deadly types, but this one can yak on and on and on like a seasoned barmaid."

"He's too thin though," Bucket frowned at the boy's reedy arms, "Definitely needs more mutton on those bones if he wants to get as big as his father."

Hiccup's eyes widened, absolutely stunned, and not expecting _that_ at all.

His father, a person whom he deemed to be more of a sperm donor than an involved parent, became a sensitive topic that he avoided at all costs. It was bad enough that the kids at school didn't accept him. To add that he had a parent who never bothered to know him felt like a sharp knife stabbed deliberately into his heart.

"You know my dad?" his mouth suddenly felt dry.

"Yep," Mulch nodded in confirmation, "and we're tasked to bring yah to him, most preferably alive."

Hiccup took in a deep breath and wondered what kind of stinking shit he got himself into this time.

-o-0-o-

"Is everyone alive in here?"

Gobber's bald head popped through the tent's flap. Worry etched into his features when he noted the sudden hush that disrupted the heated conversation from inside his home. He anticipated some yelling and a bit of ugly crying but what he saw amused him instead.

"Aren't yah two a bit too cosy, eh?" he chuckled loudly.

The reunited couple stiffened then quickly separated, opting to act coy as if they weren't passionately engaging in some tongue jostling just a few moments before. Valka blushed as scarlet as a rose when her redheaded lover scowled at the intruder who ruined their perfect moment. Both pig-headed males sized up one another before Stoick grinned widely and greeted the blacksmith with open arms.

"Ah ha! Gobber, good to see you alive and kicking," the royal bellowed, "I did not know you were here, but this just makes this reunion all the sweeter."

They exchanged a tight bone crunching hug. Both men grinned widely, bumping their foreheads together in some odd male ritual.

"I'm glad to see yah again, Stoick. Or should I start calling yah as Yer Majesty?"

"Using my name will be fine for now. I'm not yet king, not until the coronation..." Stoick stepped away and frowned, suddenly remembering the reason why he had to fly a thousand miles to get to this barren landscape. "Not until I properly acknowledge my heir."

Gobber and Valka exchanged an anxious glance as they gathered around the table. The blacksmith pulled out three ceramic mugs from a wooden chest and filled them to the brim with bittersweet honey mead; a homemade concoction he had aged for two years in one of the forge's wooden barrels. Burrowing a hand into his breast pocket, Stoick pulled out a small photograph and slid it over the tabletop.

"I found this inside my father's vault a day after the car accident, among several other documents that proved the existence of my son," He flipped the photo and there, written in an elegant script at the back, was the name Hiccup, "I knew he was my babe the first time I saw him. He looks like a bit of you and a bit of me, Val."

Valka lifted the picture and stared at her baby's features. She swallowed thickly, recognizing the handwriting all too well and remembered the exact date she had sent the picture through the mail.

"He has your eyes and your laugh," Valka nodded her acquiescence, "I know I should have told you about Hiccup but I..." She hesitated, still afraid to earn his ire. He had every right to hate her yet he looked at her as if she still owned his heart.

"Hush. I'm not here to battle with you," Stoick said kindly to his beloved, "I do not know the reasons why you disappeared seventeen years ago but there are more pressing matters to discuss," his gaze hardened with determination, "In six month's time I will be crowned King of Berk and I need to declare an heir who will take my place as the Crown Prince."

Gobber's jaw dropped. "You mean tah recognize Hiccup?" he asked, "but surely yah already have a legal heir of yer own by this time?"

"I never married," Stoick admitted and took a sip of his mead, "I may have had a relationship or two after you had gone, but only one woman had truly earned my affections."

Valka bent her head as Stoick's eyes flickered towards her position, unsuccessfully trying to catch her gaze. Her guilt swallowed her whole and she dreaded to see the fond expression on his face. She didn't deserve his love or his forgiveness. Her fingers fumbled with the photo as the urge to run away tempted her once again.

"I have to go, I need still need to pick Hiccup from school and..."

"There is no need for that," Stoick assured her. He held his left arm up, glancing at the expensive watch wrapped around his wrist, "He'll be here in a bit."

The honking of a horn made Valka flinch in her seat. The photo slid from her fingertips and her unease heightened into panic. The crunching of gravel against rubber tires heralded the arrival of another vehicle. Gobber finished his mead with a few quick gulps then raised his brow.

"That was fast."

"I don't have much time to spare, old friend," Stoick said bitterly, "I need to speak to my son as soon as possible."

A distinct nasal voice complained loudly, threatening to sic a ferocious Night Fury upon his abductor's arses. The tent's flap lifted up and two uniformed men dragged a reluctant, struggling teenager inside. With a quick silent salute to their leader, they released their hostage then marched back to the car outside. The scowl on Hiccup's face disappeared when he saw his family sitting beside a man whom he had never met before.

"Mom, what's going on?"

Valka stood and rushed towards her child, her thin arms embracing him tightly against herself. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the torrent of her tears as she burrowed her head against his shoulder. Hiccup glared at their visitor whom he mistook as the cause of his mother's troubles.

"Who are you?" the young man demanded, "I don't know why you are here but you leave my mom alone!"

He growled and maneuvered his mother behind his back, a bold move to protect her from what he perceived to be an imminent threat.

The smile on Stoick's face fell.

"He doesn't know?" he spoke, bewildered, "He doesn't know who I am?"

Valka cowered behind her son, unwilling to face the consequences of her mistakes. She whimpered when she saw Stoick purse his lips into a thin unforgiving line.

"I'm sorry," she pleaded, "Please, I..."

The king-to-be interrupted her with a curt wave of his hand. He rose to his feet and stated his title.

"I am Stoick 'the Vast' Haddock of the Kingdom of Berk," he said proudly, "The heir assumptive to the Throne of House Haddock. And you, Hiccup, are my one and only son, a product of my loins, and a Prince by your own birthright."

Forest green eyes widened in disbelief. "Hold on, wait just a minute!" Hiccup frantically waved his hands around, "You can't just say something like that and... You're my father? And you're supposedly a King? Do you grasp how insane that sounds?"

The young man waited for his supposed parent to announce that everything he said was just an elaborate prank, but Stoick stood his ground and faced him head on.

"You are my heir. What I am saying is truth and nothing but the truth."

"All my life I've believed that I'm nothing more than a nerd with an unfortunate namesake and you suddenly pop up here out of nowhere and have the gall to tell me that I'm a prince all along?" Hiccup laughed bitterly, "No, Your Majesty," he spat the title viciously, "I'm just a Hiccup."

Tempers flared. Father and son glowered at one another, too obstinate and unwilling to concede defeat. Hiccup clenched his fists as Stoick hardened his jaw, his pig-headed stubbornness compelling him to push harder.

"Now you listen to me, boy." Stoick towered over his skinny son, "You are a prince and my heir, and I expect you to show reverence to me."

"This is dragon shit." His boy hissed back.

"Hiccup, please..." Valka implored and pulled at her son's clothing. Both men frowned when they noticed her noticeable distress.

"You can't make me believe this," Hiccup turned to her, "Tell me he's lying, mom!"

He pleaded for his mother to deny everything, to dismiss the lie, but Valka squeezed her eyes shut and confessed instead.

"I'm so sorry, son" she spoke softly, "He's telling the truth. He's your father."

Hiccup stumbled backwards, hurt by the sting of betrayal. He recoiled from his parents, ambling to leave the tent when Gobber raised his amputated arm, blocking his way.

"Yah can't always run away, lad," his uncle said sadly, "Yer father's been telling yah the truth even with the royalty bit. Believe me when I say that I always wanted to tell yah all about that, but I'm duty bound not to do so because of..." he shrugged, "reasons."

Gobber's hand fell upon Hiccup's shoulder and his uncle steered him towards one of the available seats. The young man sat down, shell shocked, as his supposed father took the chair across him, expecting to persist with the conversation. Valka stood behind them, her heart pounding with every shaky breath.

Hiccup's eyes had gone wild as he glared at the man before him, averse to face the adults who had dumped the insane idea upon his head. He remained skeptical. The implication that a sarcastic twerp like him was in fact a prince of a far away realm sounded too implausible. Yet something about his father looked awfully familiar. The mystery niggled at him, poking at his doubts.

Red hair had always been rare color and this man would have stood out wherever he went. The braided beard definitely added some character to his presence. Hiccup kept snapping his fingers as his brilliant mind skimmed through his memories, trying to pinpoint where he had seen his father's face before.

Then he blinked. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

"Three weeks ago, the newscast about some monarchs meeting an accident..." He pointed an accusing finger at Gobber, "Is that why you pulled the plug?"

"Yep," the blacksmith grinned, "Glad you remember that, lad. I knew it bothered yer mother to see yer father even if it was just through the telly."

Hiccup breathed through his nose. The whole situation was all kinds of fucked up, but he wanted to know the truth.

"I want to be alone with my father," Hiccup looked between his mother and Gobber, "Please, I need to ask him some questions and I just..."

"No need to explain, lad." Gobber stood and rested a hand on Valka's back, "Yer mother and I will wait fer yah outside."

-o-0-o-

Hiccup could count in one hand the few select times when change had totally fucked up his life. The loss of his lower limb was one of his truly memorable nightmares, but this travesty topped even that. He looked at his supposed father and wondered at how someone so massive and intimidating could be the source of half his DNA strand. Stoick the Vast had twice the body size and twice the attitude. He stood taller and probably could smash a man's skull with one hard punch.

Stoick looked at him in concern, "Are you fine, son?"

Hiccup snorted.

"It's a bit too much to wrap my head around, just to be frank," he shrugged, "It's not every day that I find out that my father is some kind of monarch from some unknown archipelago and that my whole life had been a lie."

He tried to laugh it off but his chest felt hollow inside. It would have been better if the whole mess turned out to be a hoax, but Hiccup acknowledged the truth more and more as he met his father's gaze. Their eyes had the same shade of green, the same shape. They even had the same nose, although his was a bit slimmer and less bulbous.

Looking into his father's face was like staring into a mirror image.

He knew right then and there that this man told him the truth.

"Where have you been all this time?" Hiccup asked, "Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

The pain of being abandoned influenced the anger that tinged his voice. For years, Hiccup had believed that his father never bothered to know about him. The stories his mother relayed left the impression that the man never cared a whit for his own child. Yet, Stoick suddenly appeared out of nowhere, too eager to acknowledge him as an heir. He found it hard to reconcile that he had a father who wanted to accept his existence.

"I am in a bit of a dilemma," Hiccup admitted, "I don't trust you. I don't even know who you are."

"No, you don't," Stoick agreed, "but that does not negate the fact that I do want to know you and that trust between us can be built and earned over time," he steepled his fingers and faced his son. "I cannot build a relationship with you, Hiccup, if you and your mother live a thousand miles away. I want you to live in Berk with me..."

"And the prince thing?"

"That has always been your birthright."

Hiccup inhaled a shaky breath, "You're asking too much from me. I cannot just leave everything behind. I can leave school but I won't abandon my dragon."

Stoick nodded his head. He knew that uprooting his son from his current home would not be an easy task. "I'm willing to negotiate for your dragon. If you live in Berk for a year then you are entitled to ask anything from me in return."

"Anything?"

"Yes," Stoick affirmed, "Anything."

"What are the parameters?" Hiccup narrowed his eyes. "What?" He pouted at his father's dimpled grin, "I just want to know what exactly I'm signing up for."

Stoick chuckled as he saw a promising glimpse of his son's personality. Other brats might have jumped to the opportunity of asking exorbitant requests without considering the eventual consequences. Hiccup, on the other hand, wanted to discuss the fine print and the intricate details.

His son acted cautious. Good. That would be a useful trait that will serve him well in the future.

"You will live in Berk and I will provide everything that you need. You will finish your education and at the same time I will teach you about the kingdom and your duties. I will give you six months to learn the responsibilities of a Crown Prince. If the allotted time ends and you decide not to become my heir, then you are free leave, never to return. In exchange, I will grant you anything that you covet with no questions asked."

"So I learn Princely duties for half a year then I'm free to go if I don't want it?"

"I'd rather that you finish your studies on Berk, son." Stoick said, "It would be inconvenient for you to switch schools twice in a single year."

Stoick knew he was gambling the future of his monarchy upon his chosen heir's decision. He had been tutored in the art of negotiation since he was a wee child and knew all too well how to get what he wanted. Everyone had a sweet spot, a weakness that can be exploited. He only needed to discover and exploit his son's Achilles' heel.

Hiccup swore inwardly as he weighted his options. Life would definitely be easier for him if he decided to accept the deal. He could ask for money, negating the need for a scholarship, and could enter any university to get his degree in Dragon Biology.

Suddenly, his dreams seemed plausible and real. And for the first time in his life, Hiccup looked forward to the future possibilities. He resolutely met his father's unwavering gaze and gave him his answer.

"I accept."

To be continued...

 **A/N: Sorry for the delay. This was supposed to be posted last week but I got sick with the flu. I had a hard time getting my momentum back on track but here is Chapter 3 as promised. I think I'm going to post once a week – unless I get really inspired to write faster. This chapter was a bit of a challenge to build up but I'm happy with the end result. Next stop would be Berk, Prince Training and getting to know that pretty blonde girl at his new school. I'm so excited.**

 **Valka is not supposed to be likable in this story. She has flaws and is pretty much imperfect, but that's how I have always interpreted her character. She abandoned Hiccup for twenty years in the second HTTYD movie and wouldn't have gone home to Berk if Hiccup and Stoick didn't show up in her turf. As someone who has a very loving mother, I couldn't fathom how Valka chose dragons over her family. Stoick, Valka, and Hiccup will have to thresh out a lot of issues. Seriously, they are fractured.**

 **Thank you for all of your support. I'm shocked by the amount of reviews, favourites, and follows that this story has garnered. This is the first time I have 100 follows for a story that's only two chapters in. I'm floored and absolutely ecstatic. I'm glad that you are all enjoying my story.**

 **I would love to read your comments. All your reviews are lovely and sweet. They're like cookies. They give me life and energy to write more.**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Stoick's mouth twitched. He found it too tempting to grin in triumph but it would not do well to count this agreement as an early victory. The winds of fate could be fickle indeed. Nevertheless, his chest swelled, excitement thrummed in his veins, his mind mapped out the possibilities. Now he had to plot, manoeuvring the situation in a way that would deflect any possible insurrection that may arise, while carefully laying down the steps that would secure his son's position beside the throne.

"It is traditional for Berkians to shake hands upon reaching a mutual agreement," Stoick held his hand up. "I hope to start things right with you in this way."

For a moment his son pondered upon his decision, thin brows knitting together, mind deep in thought. Then Hiccup set his mouth into a grim line and shook his father's awaiting hand.

The lad had a firm grip. Thin fingers, yes, but he had an undercurrent of hidden strength and stubborn determination blazed in those eyes. This one would not be easily swayed, his decisions concrete and sure - another essential trait to value for a future leader.

Stoick narrowed his gaze, quietly assessing the boy who could lead Berk one day. The peg leg caught him by surprise yet it merely piqued his interest, adding to the mystique surrounding his heir. His background in the military skewed his perception towards amputations. Most of the bravest men he knew lost a limb or two. That his son used a prosthetic at such a young age…

There had to be reason for it, a story waiting to be told. Stoick looked forward to uncovering the layers concealed beneath the boy's unassuming exterior.

"You'll be accompanying me to Berk tonight."

"What?" Hiccup spluttered and jerked his hand away, "Right now?"

Stoick raised one finger to hush his son. "Lesson number one in becoming a royal," he stated gruffly as he straightened his posture. "You cannot waste time. Every minute you spend in your life will be crucial, not only for yourself but for your kingdom. Berk cannot wait another day without its monarchs…"

"But I can't just leave!" Hiccup slashed his hand in the air to drive his point in. "We need to alert my school. Mom and I need to process Toothless' transfer papers. I can't just... I can't drop everything to cater to your whims."

"I will provide everything that you will need," Stoick crossed his arms and leveled the boy with a stern gaze, "Haven't I promised you this? I gave you my word. Pack what you can. Everything else will be given to you when we arrive at your new home. I'll give you an hour, nothing less and nothing more."

Hiccup bristled with gritted teeth. "You can't just dictate what I can and can't do."

There it was - the stubborn set of the lad's jaw that indicated that Haddock ran through his veins. Stoick inwardly grinned though his face betrayed no such emotion. He expected obstinacy, the stubborn streak so prevalent in his family, and he got it in spades. He met his son's glare, deciding to teach the boy another crucial lesson to help him assimilate quicker to royal life.

"I am your paterfamilias." Stoick's tone dismissed any qualms, "and soon I will also be your King. It would be prudent of you to start treating me as your sovereign. A prince, especially one of import, will be expected to answer to authority at all times. I can and will dictate what you can and can't do. And so will the laws that govern our kingdom."

"That would only be true if I would agree to stay in Berk as your prince. Right now you're not winning me over with your attitude, Your Majesty," the boy spat back with a sneer, "And besides, respect needs to be earned not given."

"You either accompany me to Berk today or you don't, negating what we have agreed upon," Stoick spread his hands and laid down the gauntlet, "It's your choice. Choose well."

Hiccup scowled. His temper barely bridled and reigned in. Crossing his lanky arms, he glared at his father.

"Aren't you supposed to butter me up and ply me with sweet nothings to make me agree with your dastardly scheme?" he grumbled, "Because I'm feeling pretty much uncooperative right now."

Stoick merely snorted and arched one bushy brow as if to say 'Really?'.

Hiccup struggled with the urge to lash out but snapped his mouth shut, teeth clinking and jaw clenched as he considered what hung in the balance. Tense shoulders drooped in defeat as the older man continued to stare him down.

"Right," he agreed tersely, "I'll drop school in a flash. I hate it anyway, but Toothless will be a non-negotiable deal breaker." Hiccup narrowed his eyes and added snidely, "I want my dragon to have an extra special stable with all the perks and all-you-can-eat cod."

"Fine," Stoick huffed and rolled his eyes. "Go pack your bags and I will explain everything to your mother shortly."

-o-0-o-

He laid out his belongings before him, mouth twisting into a frown as he surveyed how little he owned. Living in the wild taught Hiccup how to be pragmatic. Trinkets seem irrelevant when constantly relocating on dragon back. What he did possess turned out to be mostly clothing; though most of his sweatshirts already thinned to the point of fraying and his jeans faded from repeated laundering. He bundled up his sketchpads and a case filled with lead pencils, carefully inserting the precious materials into his bag along with his passport and identification cards.

"Are you sure about this?"

Hiccup tilted his head up to meet his mother's gaze. Valka fretted with her fingers, her worry clear at seeing her son fold and arrange his possessions.

"Your father informed me of what he proposed to do with you and that you agreed with it," she took a tentative step towards him, "That you want to go to Berk…"

"I don't know," Hiccup admitted and stuffed another pair of jeans into his backpack, "Right now it feels like it's the best option I have. We don't have much money. Not that it bothered me before, it's just…"

Briefly he closed his eyes, carefully weighing his options, yet still ended up with the same conclusion.

"It's the only way I'll be able to get my Dragon Training license without a scholarship. He promised to give me anything in return. Maybe even agree to fund a masters or doctorate degree if I'm lucky."

"This is not something that should be taken lightly, Hiccup." his mother told him, "If you accept the role as his heir, the future of a whole kingdom will rest upon your shoulders."

"Dad…," Hiccup grimaced, until now the word still felt cloying in his mouth. "He said that I have the option to say no, that if I decide to leave in the end it will be okay."

"But he will try to persuade you, to push you to do something that you might not readily agree with," Valka warned him gravely, "I know all too well how persuasive your father can be." She frowned, recalling another time when a certain prince wanted to woo a girl from an unsuitable background.

Nothing stopped Stoick then, nothing would stop him now.

"Am I really a prince?" he asked, "I just can't imagine myself as someone like that. I feel as if I'm still dreaming and everything would disappear the moment I wake up."

Even now he wondered if everything that transpired today had been a product of his wild imagination. If not for the news report he witnessed three weeks ago, Hiccup would never associated Stoick as some monarch from a far away kingdom; maybe more of a professional boxer or a body builder, but never a king. His situation felt too much like a fairy tale, too improbable and mind boggling to be true.

"As your father, he has every right to bestow the title upon you," Valka admitted, "It has always been your birthright, Hiccup."

The question that always haunted him since he was a child tumbled out of his lips.

"Then why did he leave us?" his eyes beseeched her to be honest, "I thought dad didn't want me but he's a bit too excited to make me his heir."

Valka looked away, avoiding her son's piercing gaze. Her mouth went dry, unable to articulate the lie that dangled from the tip of her tongue. Now that Stoick infiltrated their lives, the thread of deception she told for years could unravel before her. She hesitated, unconsciously taking a step back as overwhelming guilt gnawed at her conscience.

That the man never knew about him, that his very existence had been hidden like a dirty secret... The truth would be more devastating for a child who always yearned for a father.

"It's not important," Valka deftly deflected the question, "We need to discuss what needs to be done. Your uncle will accompany you and your father to Berk."

Hiccup eyes widened in surprise, "You're not coming with us?"

She nodded in affirmation, silently relieved she had distracted her son.

"I need to notify the local government that we will relocate our dragons," Valka explained primly, "You know that that will take some time - a month at most if we are lucky. I also need to interview applicants that could replace our roles here in the sanctuary. The dragons need someone to take care of their needs. Yes, it would be better if I stay behind."

Hiccup stuffed the last pair of socks he owned, zipped up, and hitched his backpack upon his shoulders. It weighed a ton against his back, like the whole world lay heavily upon him. He bit his lip, finding the sudden news of his mother being left behind unsettling, ultimately dreading the oncoming separation.

"I know that sometimes I've been more of a burden to you but I just want to say..." He stepped forward to envelope her in an embrace, "I love you and I'll miss you, mom."

Valka squeezed her eyes shut, reining in her tears as his thin arms wrapped around her torso. She leaned forward, nestling her head against her son's bony shoulder. The boy who she used to carry in her arms now supported her with his own strength.

"I know," she took in a shaky breath, "I love you too, son"

-o-0-o-

Stoick and Gobber patiently waited outside when a playful Night Fury sniffed curiously at the redheaded man's beard. Toothless flashed a gummy grin when the stranger smelled familiar somehow, affectionately nuzzling his scaly head against the man's chest. The monarch let out a boisterous laugh and scratched at the dragon's jaw, making the reptile croon in absolute delight.

"Hey bud," Hiccup called out as he and his mother exited the tent. Toothless' perked up, his tongue lolling to the side as he happily lumbered towards his rider. The dragon's prosthetic fitted tail swished back and forth as he eagerly bumped his forehead against the boy's shoulder.

"What a fine dragon," Stoick grinned in approval, "A Night Fury, a perfect pet for a Haddock."

"He's not a pet," Hiccup corrected curtly, a bit miffed at what the word meant, "As if you can call the unholy offspring of lightning and death as anything as mundane as that," he rolled his eyes and sniffed, "He's my best friend - my only best friend..."

Hiccup's expression turned forlorn. Toothless pouted, perfectly mirroring his dour mood. Dragons could detect human emotion and it seemed that his best friend instinctively knew that he would be left behind. The Night Fury warbled in dejection, light green eyes dilating as the boy tightly hugged the reptile's thick neck.

"I wish I could bring you with me, bud…" Hiccup murmured softly against warm black scales, "But you'll be with me soon. I promise."

Valka soothed the dragon's heart-rending coos with tender touches. "I'll keep him safe."

"And I'll keep this one safe too," Gobber beamed and smacked his prosthetic hand against the lad's back, "and take care of mah Grump fer me."

Parting ways always felt bittersweet but Hiccup knew it would only be temporary. Steeling his nerves, he stepped away from his dragon and followed his uncle into one of the waiting limousines. His father, on the other hand, chose to ride alone in the other vehicle.

They traveled in tandem, moving farther and farther away until The Bush and its dragons could no longer be seen. Time passed quickly as their twin rides drove through the suburbs then through the highways that led to the main city. Hiccup sat patiently, mind deep in thought as he stared at the ever changing scenery. Gobber interlocked his fingers and gave the lad a concerned look.

"Are yah okay?" The blacksmith suddenly asked, "I mean, this may be a bit difficult to take in, suddenly reuniting yer father and all."

"You knew him, didn't you?" The accusation rang clear.

"Eh, I've known yer father fer years," Gobber rubbed at his beard, "even longer than I knew yer mother if I think about it."

"But you never once decided that you ought to tell me anything about him."

Hiccup scowled, unable to stop his resentment from seeping into his tone. This man acted as his father figure. The one who stepped into the big void that his missing parent left behind, teaching him everything he knew and offering sage advice when needed. That Gobber kept him in the dark hurt more than Hiccup could admit.

The older man sighed, knowing the boy had a right to be sullen, "I had a vow not tah divulge anything. Yah have tah trust that yer mother and I had a reason fer doing what we've done. I've always wanted tah tell yah but I couldn't..."

"Yet you would not tell me even now." Hiccup noted his uncle's hesitation.

"It's not my story tah tell, lad," Gobber shrugged and crossed his beefy arms, "But I do know one thing. Your mother loves yah more than anything in this world."

Hiccup scoffed, "I can't understand how love could lead to this."

For the lies slowly ate through his trust. He hated it, the feeling of paranoia that wanted to destroy the ties he built with the people whom he cared for the most. It kept him on edge. Though he loved them and could easily forgive, Hiccup wondered what else they kept from him.

They drove through a gated area surrounded by miles upon miles of wire fencing. Hiccup peered through the tinted windows, noticing a handful of commercial flights connected to a building through the use of boarding tunnels. Other planes either sped through the runway for lift off or parked in a hangar for maintenance. Their respective rides continued on until they halted in front of their next mode of transportation.

Hiccup's jaw dropped the moment he, his father, and Gobber stepped out of their respective vehicles.

"You own a jet!"

A big ass Haddock crest was painted outside the private jet's pure white exterior. If the limos screamed of extravagance, this one would be declared over the top.

Stoick chuckled at gobsmacked expression on his son's face. "What did you expect? Our family runs a kingdom after all. Riding on a commercial flight would be a nightmare for our security team."

"We will be ready for take-off in a few minutes, Yer Majesty." One of the guards bowed his head respectfully to their liege.

"Good," Stoick nodded, "Come, son, let us get settled in our seats. The quicker we arrive in Berk the better."

His father led the way up the airstair while Hiccup and the others followed from behind. Hiccup sat beside his uncle while Stoick chose the seat right across his son. Safety belts were quickly fastened around waists as the plane slowly moved out of the hangar. Then it quickened its speed as it reached the runway, preparing itself for lift off. Hiccup's nerves shot to a panic and he gripped the sides of his seat as if his life depended on it.

"I don't like this. I really don't like this. I don't -" he hissed as the whole jet shook, taking that final burst before it reaches the sky, "Why didn't we fly with our dragons again?"

"Everything's going tah be fine, lad" Gobber re-adjusted the too tight belt, "I thought yah loved flying?"

"I love it on dragon back." Hiccup snarked, "You know, flying on top of a dragon that you can trust to catch you if you ever fell from the saddle. Sitting inside a metal contraption without any way to control its movements as it flies through the sky..." he shivered, "Eh, not so much."

"Is he always like this?" Stoick whispered to the blacksmith, amused at his son's overt panic, "I thought you said he rode dragons like a professional or was that a lie?"

"It's his first time to ride on a plane," Gobber explained, "We've always traveled on dragon back, much cheaper that way than buying air fare and easier to move furniture too. Come on, lad. Enjoy the experience. Yah never know when you'll be able to ride on a jet again."

"Which I hope would be never again," Hiccup lower lip jutted out as he pouted like a child, making the two adults laugh aloud.

The trip spanned sixteen hours. Sixteen damn hours stuck in a plane with no way out and no dragon to rescue him if anything went awry. Hiccup fell asleep four hours in, only jolting awake when Gobber nudged at his shoulder so he could eat and relieve himself.

By the time the sixteenth hour came, his arse and calves felt numb. His uncle looked amused when Hiccup stretched out thin legs to loosen the constricted muscles, an obvious look of discomfort straining his features.

Stoick glanced at his wristwatch and smiled.

"Look outside, son." He pointed at the window at Hiccup's side. "Go see it for yourself."

Sliding the cover up, Hiccup peered through the thick transparent glass and saw the evening sky. Innumerable stars twinkled in the darkness accompanied by a thin crescent moon. Far below, bright lights shone from various buildings and homes while cars streaked through the roads like miniature toys. It looked beautiful, mesmerizing.

Stoick grinned with pride.

"This is Berk, our kingdom."

-o-0-o-

Gusty winds whipped against Hiccup's face, chapping his lips and tousling his hair the moment they disembarked from the private jet. He popped up the lapels of his heavy woolen coat, thankful that the guards had given them something to buffer the chill.

Berk was freezing - a complete turn-around from The Bush's sweltering heat. The guards led the trio into a smaller vehicle, not as grand as a limousine but still expensive nonetheless. Mulch sat in front of the steering wheel while Bucket sat at the passenger side. Stoick, Gobber and Hiccup fitted themselves in the thankfully spacious backseat.

They rushed through snow lined streets in a city that brimmed with energy even in so late in the day. Hiccup stared eagerly at this foreign land, quite amazed at the perfect amalgam of modern and older Nordic architecture. Soon the car left the bustling of the metropolis, entering into an area obviously set aside for the wealthy. Humongous gated manor houses sat in between hectares upon hectares of untamed land. Hiccup's eyes grew wider and wider as they passed by, each of the houses bigger and more elaborate than the last.

In the farthest end lay an estate that exceeded all expectations. Surrounded by sprawling lawns and dense woodland, the three-story high brick manor stood out like an intimidating piece of old world architecture. Hiccup could only stare in awe as they passed the iron pedestrian gates and drove through the cobbled driveway, parking in front of a stairway that would lead them inside the manor.

"Ah, Raven's Point Manor," Stoick grinned proudly as the group alighted their rides, "This will be your new home."

Double doors burst wide open as a busty woman with braided buns pinned to the side of her head met them with a murderous look on her face.

"You're late, yer majesty!" she exclaimed, "Late! The dowager duchess and I kept wondering if you would arrive today with your bairn or if we'd wait for another day."

"Only for five minutes," Stoick chuckled as the newcomer quickly herded them into the foyer and shut the doors close to keep out the chill. "We encountered a bit of traffic on our way out of the city. I hope you remember what we have discussed, Mrs. Ack." He swiped his finger across his lips in a zipping motion, indicating absolute secrecy.

"Och, we know that, sir, and we have kept the news to those who we deemed trustworthy. We're not fools to let that scoundrel brother of yours know a thing. Is this him?" the woman narrowed her eyes at the large blonde man standing beside her sovereign, "Isn't he a bit too old to be your bairn?"

"This is Gobber," Stoick said, "He is my son's chaperone for his stay."

"Eh, I'm just here to keep the lad out of trouble." Gobber scratched the back of his bald head, "More of a glorified babysitter actually. This is the one yer looking for."

The blacksmith clapped Hiccup's back then grabbed the end of his shirt to pull him to the front of the group. Hiccup cringed when Mrs. Ack inspected him with a critical eye.

She gasped in horror.

"What is this?" Mrs. Ack tugged at the threadbare hoodie that Hiccup wore. "Is this polyester?"

"Umm, it's a sweatshirt?" Hiccup tugged hard, trying to pull his clothing away from invading prying hands "Can you please unhand me strange hostile stranger who hates my hoodie for some unknown reason?"

"And those jeans!" she shuddered, "Those needs to be binned in the furnace immediately."

"Stop," Hiccup scowled, "Stop judging my clothes."

She hissed, scandalized that the boy wore a ratty T-shirt underneath all that awful polyester.

"This is a nightmare! A Travesty! Your majesty, how could you let your own child wear something as peasant-like as this?" the strange woman waved her hands at the lad, gesturing from the tips of his russet head to the prosthetic foot, "This has to stop!"

"Why thank you for gesturing to all of me…" Hiccup deadpanned.

Stoick merely guffawed as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. "I trust that you can handle him Mrs. Ack. The boy needs your special guidance to learn about proper etiquette and manners."

"Och, this one also needs a proper tailor," the robust woman settled her hands on her hips, "No Haddock will wear hand me downs as long as I'm chamberlain around here. I'll ask Johann to come round to give our little prince a new wardrobe." She ruffled the boy's lengthened bangs and pinched his cheeks, "Perhaps a new haircut will be agreeable too?"

"Don't touch the hair." Hiccup growled and pointed at his crappy hairstyle, "This head is off-limits. Got that?"

Stoick rubbed at his beard and nodded, "Aye, the lad needs all the help he can get."

"Is anyone listening to me? No touching the hair, no new clothes. I'm fine the way I am."

"Eh, your pants have some holes near yer arse, lad."

Gobber chuckled when Hiccup jolted to cup his arse with the palms of his hands, the apples of his cheeks blushing scarlet.

"This one got the Haddock boar-headed quirk, alright." Mrs. Ack snapped her fingers, "You might feel fine looking like a street rat but a prince must adhere to higher standards. Come on, I'll show you all to your rooms."

She led them up a grand staircase leading to the second-level of the manor. They turned to the left, trotting along a lengthy hallway illuminated by gilded light fixtures while locked doors and oil paintings lined each wall.

"This is the West Wing," Mrs. Ack explained, "The whole of wing will be for your use personal use while the East Wing will be your father's personal quarters. Now your chaperone will stay in the adjacent chamber," she pointed to a room to the right, "while this one will be your suite."

A set of keys jingled as she pulled them out of her pocket. Mrs. Ack slotted one into the knob, twisting the key until they heard an audible click. The door swung open revealing an opulently decorated set of rooms bigger than anything Hiccup had ever seen before.

They first entered into a sitting room painted in tasteful greens with cream edging. A merry fire blazed in an open hearth while couches and leather chintz chairs offered a place for respite. Another opening led them to a bedroom where a four-poster bed with lush silken bedding and fluffed up pillows was set against a wall. An elaborately weaved Persian carpet overlay the expanse of the suite's flooring, while silk brocade curtains covered floor-to-ceiling windows.

"To your left would be your private bath, toilet and walk-in wardrobe," she indicated one of the two doors set into the wall. "You also have a chamber further down the hall that could serve as your private study and library."

"Perhaps you can show Gobber to his rooms, Mrs. Ack." Stoick suddenly spoke.

His uncle and the chamberlain arched their brows in tandem, sharing a knowing look that indicated that they knew what the monarch planned to do. They bowed simultaneously, filing out of the room in haste.

"So this is it, huh?" Hiccup exhaled, nervously settling himself on the king-sized bed, "I think my whole school can fit inside this place and my classroom can fit inside this room."

"A room fit for a prince," Stoick smiled, "and a home fit for a Haddock."

 _But I'm not one yet_ , Hiccup's mind screamed. He balked at the thought, uncomfortable at splendor of the manor and the prestige that came with the royal title.

"I honestly don't know about that..." Hiccup shrugged. The feeling of being out of place persisted even more.

"I need to lay some ground rules before we do anything else." Stoick sat beside his son and placed on hand on his shoulder. "You need keep your identity a secret and will not be allowed to divulge the truth of your heritage. I will allow you to keep your mother's maiden name for now and will be enrolled in your new school using the same initials."

"So no one has to know who I am?" Hiccup knitted his brows in confusion, "But wasn't the point of me coming here would be for me to be known as your heir?

"It's for your protection," Stoick explained, "The public does not need to be informed about your arrival until you formally accept your position as heir to the throne." He omitted the fact that his own half-brother needed to be kept in the dark. The existence of his son would obliterate Spitelout's ambitions. "It will also keep the media from prying into our affairs."

Nosy journalists and paparazzi could become Stoick's greatest ally or enemy depending upon the outcome of his plotting. Manipulating public opinion could be utilized as a trump cards but could also result in his downfall. The people needed to accept his son, but that would not happen if the boy's introduction to high society would be mishandled.

Yes, it would be better if everything would be revealed at the right time.

"I don't like it," Hiccup admitted, "But I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"It will help you learn your duties without the added pressure of the public knowing your every move."

"Anything else to add, oh great king?" Hiccup snarked.

Stoick laughed at his son's audacity.

"We will meet together every Tuesdays and Thursdays, or whenever my schedule permits it. Your great-great Aunt Gothi and Mrs. Ack will tutor you intensively in Berkian history, court etiquette, and proper manners. School will start tomorrow."

"But tomorrow is a Friday. Wouldn't it be better if I start next week?"

"Perhaps," Stoick agreed, "but it would do you good to have a glimpse of your new school before the weekend sets in. A Haddock always grabs every opportunity to utilize time wisely."

A sudden pervasive silence arose between them, awkwardly halting their already stilted conversation. Father and son studied each other, unsure at how to proceed. Stoick tentatively raised an arm, wanting to embrace his son, but patted the top of Hiccup's head instead.

"So I guess this means I need to sleep now. Umm..." Hiccup shuffled uncomfortably as his father stood on sure feet, "Goodnight... dad."

"Good night, son." Stoick smiled warmly before walking away.

Hiccup collapsed on the bed. The swinging of a door opening and shutting close indicated that his parent had left the suite. He turned to and fro, trying to find a good acceptable position on the feather mattress, unable to find comfort in its softness. Instead, Hiccup's frustrations mounted. The feeling of being drowned by a cloud of fluff urged him to relocate to the sturdy carpeted floor. Instantly, his body relaxed though he knew that sleep would evade him tonight.

Tomorrow would be the start of another day, a start of new life.

He just hoped that this school would be infinitely better than the last one.

To be continued...

 **A/N: Sorry that this took a while. I got sick for a few weeks then I had some trouble plodding through this chapter. Transitions are quite tricky to handle but I persevered and conquered. Thank for your reviews. They just motivate me to continue on even when real life sucks. This is also an early present for me since I'm posting it a day before my birthday.**

 **Raven's Point Manor is inspired by Wroxton Abbey, a 22.5 hectare monstrosity that I would like to see in person one day.**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

The distinct sound of a door being forced open barely registered in Stoick's consciousness until a thick wad of documents slammed against the surface of his desk. The king-to-be snapped his head up, pausing at his perusal of the morning paper to note the over confident smirk that contorted his half-brother's lips. He slyly slid his gaze to the side, taking a quick peek at the corner of the room. The ornate grandfather clock's hands ticked a quarter past five in the morning.

"Isn't it a bit early for you to walk about in the palace?" Stoick commented, eyes roving back to his newspaper as he flipped to another page.

Spitelout adjusted his tie and settled down on one of the available seats, crossing one leg over the other to leisurely lounge upon it like a throne. "What I do is none of your business," he answered arrogantly, drumming his fingertips upon the desk, "but I do have something to discuss with you."

Stoick shrewdly schooled his expression to one of indifference, proceeding to fold the morning paper in half to set it aside. He almost bristled in irritation but merely leveled a hardened glare, quite displeased at the unwarranted disruption of his quiet morning.

"What is this?" He motioned a hand to the stapled papers stacked almost half an inch high.

"A petition for my son to be established as heir assumptive to the throne," Spitelout slid a silver sterling pen forward, "I had my solicitor double check the fine details. Read quickly and sign on dotted line."

Stoick's hands curled slightly, fingers twitching in an urge to throttle his brother's neck. The insolence of such a command coming from someone considered as nothing more than a family bastard rankled at his already simmering rage. Yet he staid still, face as stoic as his name, opting not to openly show enmity to an unpredictable adversary. For it would be unwise to reveal his hand too early in the game.

Leaning against his winged back chair, Stoick settled his elbows upon the armrests and decided not to lift a single finger to touch the offered pen. He opted not to examine the petition, knowing that such a move would be deemed as a quiet acceptance in his half-brother's eyes. Minutes ticked by as the siblings assessed one another. Watching, waiting for whoever would commit the next tactical move - until Spitelout's nostrils flared in indignation.

"Surely you do plan to secure the future of our Kingdom?" He uncrossed his legs and crouched closer. The smirk on his face transformed into a petulant sneer. "Should I remind you once again that you do not have an heir?"

"What I plan for the kingdom is mine alone to know." Stoick waved a hand to dismiss the faux concern. "It is not your place to dictate what I should do."

Cunning grey eyes scrutinized the redheaded man intently. Then Spitelout snarled. "You're hiding something."

"And why do you accuse me of this? Pray tell?"

"Tell me, brother, how come this is only time this week that I've finally seen you face to face?" Spitelout replied with a bitter laugh," I've been trying to reach you but I've been told by your advisor..." he spat Sven's title as if it personally offended him, "that you took a quick sabbatical outside the country and would not be available for a meeting until you chose to return. Aren't your actions quite suspicious for someone who is supposed to be mourning for the dearly departed? Or are you planning to secure a wife to produce your needed heir?"

Stoick narrowed his gaze, quickly analyzing his half-sibling's words. The outburst revealed so much in so little time. So Spitelout knew about his abrupt departure from the Berk but the exact reason why eluded him still. Good. Sven executed his job well then. Let the bastard speculate and accuse him of frivolous acts like skirt chasing and hunting for a proper queen. As long as Hiccup's existence would be kept under wraps everything else can proceed as planned.

"You have no right to tail my movements as if I'm an errant child that needs to be reigned in. What I do with my business is none of your concern." Stoick hurled the insult back, inwardly smug at the irate fire that sparked behind his brother's eyes.

"Sooner or later I'll find out what you're trying to hide," Spitelout bared his teeth, "You have your ways and I have my ways. Nothing happens in this kingdom without me knowing about it - eventually. But know this..." He leaned forward, his head almost bumping against Stoick's own in act used to intimidate. "I will not let you rob Snotlout of the prestige of being an heir. Sign the damn petition!"

He enunciated each word, wielding them like a dangerous threat, but Stoick did not bend to his will and merely brushed the documents aside. Spitelout punched his clenched fists against the desk, the impact rattling an array of paperweights and pens. Then, with a deep snarl, he pivoted on his heel and stormed out of the King's Study. The heavy wooden doors slammed shut with a bang, leaving silence in its wake. Stoick rose to his feet and tossed the documents into to the fireplace. The hungry flames flickered brightly as it devoured each page, rendering his half-brother's ambitions into smoldering ash.

"What a blasted way to start my morning", Stoick grumbled to himself. "Hopefully my son would have a better day ahead."

-o-0-o-

Hiccup woke up in a haze. Mrs. Ack hauled him to the walk-in closet the moment he opened his eyes, instructing the lad to immediately dress himself in the provided uniform; charcoal grey slacks with a matching blazer layered on top of a crisp white oxford shirt. A crimson and cream striped necktie had been tied around the collar of his shirt while a black leather messenger bag replaced his old trusty backpack. He looked good and respectable even. Quite a difference from the street rat couture that the chamberlain detested with a passion.

He ate a quick breakfast in his sitting room before he had been escorted to the car that would take him to his new school. Hiccup calmly sat in the backseat, thinking that he had switched schools so many times that this new one would prove to be the same as all the others.

He was wrong.

Berk Institute of Higher Learning exceeded all of his expectations.

The institute consisted of a cluster of stately chateaus surrounded by manicured gardens and dense woodland. Hiccup's anxiety spiked up the moment he entered the man entrance way and stepped on the marbled flooring. He got used to the t-shirt and jeans crowd, used to the chaos and mayhem of public school life. The kids he saw loitering in the halls looked so different and so posh that it that it sent his nervousness into overdrive. But he knew the drill all too well. Get to the student admission office and talk to the faculty then patiently wait until he would be sent to his first class.

He weaved through the sparse crowd of similarly dressed students, searching for his destination. Inquisitive eyes followed his every move as he wandered around the hallways but Hiccup shrugged the odd feeling off and continued on, clearly not giving a damn.

Once he found the office, he slipped inside and settled himself on one of the available chairs. He tapped his good foot impatiently as he waited for one of the teachers to give him his class schedule. Both of his feet wore black dress shoes today. His metal prosthesis carefully concealed, making him look normal like any other teenager on the street.

Hiccup crossed his fingers and hoped for the best. Maybe this time it would be different. Maybe this time he would be able to fit in with his peers.

"You're new."

Hiccup cocked his head to the side and blinked. "Excuse me?"

A girl about his age casually stood a few feet away from him, blatant curiosity shone in her azure eyes. She wore the same type of blazer as he did but had a gold badge with words 'Head Girl' pinned on top of her breast pocket. Instead of slacks, she donned on a pleated skirt and black leggings, making her look quite feminine. The birkin bag that hung on the crook of her elbow complimented her look.

"I said that you're new here," she continued on, flipping her braided blonde hair on one shoulder, "I haven't seen your face before and I know everyone who is enrolled in this school."

Hiccup felt his cheeks warm up in embarrassment the moment he realized how strikingly pretty she looked. Yep, he had a thing for blondes and this one just fit the bill for the dream girl category. A slight frown puckered her lips when he continued to stare at her face. She glowered when he continued to delay his answer. He coughed to hide his awkwardness, his tongue flicking out to moisturize chapped lips.

"I just transferred today," Hiccup admitted with a wry smile.

"Two months late into the school year?" She raised her brow in disbelief, "Isn't that a bit weird? You've already missed a lot of assignments and tests. Your grades will not be up to par."

"I didn't have a choice..." His voice strained as his frustration seeped through, "It's not as if I just decided out of the blue to relocate to another country."

The girl narrowed her eyes, studying him intently. Hiccup shifted in his seat, silently enduring the critical perusal of his appearance. Shit. He hated this moment and knew that she would categorize him, fitting him into a label that would define his whole persona. Would she see him as a nerd or a pathetic twerp? His lanky frame and lack of coordination obviously excluded him from being considered as a jock. He took in a deep breath, hoping to the heavens that she would not dismiss him as a loser like most kids did in the past.

For the first time, Hiccup appreciated that he needed to wear a uniform. It made him blend in seamlessly - unlike the ratty sweatshirt and jeans that used to be the target of mocking abuse because his family couldn't afford to buy fashionable clothes.

He sighed in relief the moment she offered her hand in greeting.

"I'm Astrid, Lady Astrid of House Hofferson. I'm Head Girl, the leader of the student council, and undefeated Thawfest axe throwing champion. And you are?"

He knitted his brow in confusion at the mention of axes but shook her hand nonetheless. "Hiccup Cloud," he grinned, too eager to get the approval of a pretty girl.

"That's not an aristocratic name, is it?" Astrid frowned, "I never heard of a Cloud before. Are you related to House Ingerman? Fishlegs did mention that he had a distant cousin visiting this year."

"Fish what?" Hiccup spluttered, completely at a loss. "I don't think I'm following what you are trying to say. What's a Fishlegs?"

The girl laughed. Her voice tinkled like little bells. "A kid who needs to stop spouting out facts as if his life depended on it," she deadpanned. "So you're not his cousin but I wonder who you are supposed to be."

"And why should that be important?"

"Because every single student enrolled into this school represents power, old money, and prestige. Don't you know?" Astrid settled one hand on her hip, her lips lifting up into a smirk, "This is a special institute built for rich kids and people who got connection somewhere in the higher ups. Everyone here represents something. The question would be... What are you doing here?"

Hiccup instantly shut his mouth close, preventing himself from almost divulging the honest truth. Quite wary of sharing his heritage to someone whom he just recently met. He grimaced because a part of him wanted her to admire him, thinking that maybe introducing himself as a prince would give him some instant popularity points. But he had sworn absolute secrecy and he never backed out from his word.

He pursed his lips and answered vaguely, "I don't know, really."

"A new blood then," Astrid concluded, accepting his answer with nonchalance. She turned on her heel and smiled. "Follow me and I'll show you around."

He stared at her in wonder, "You'll do that for me?" He deftly pinched his good leg to make sure that he wasn't dreaming.

"Hey, it's a part of my job," she grinned playfully. "Head Girl, remember? You're just lucky you met me at the right time."

Hiccup had a goofy expression on his face. He gazed at her with half-lidded eyes. His anxiety replaced by a sensation of giddiness.

Maybe this school would be awesome unlike the rest.

They left the admission office and wandered through the maze of empty hallways. Most students had gone on to their classes while Astrid cheerfully led him through an impromptu tour of the chateaus. Her prestigious status allowed her to miss any classes without facing any faculty related wrath.

They visited the arena first with Astrid enthusiastically showing off the indoor Olympic swimming pool and several courts that could be used for a variety of sports related activities. Then they visited a theater, a massive dining hall, the dorm rooms prepared for foreign students, and an impressive library.

"The institute provides everything we need," Astrid explained as they entered the massive area lined with thousands of books. She nudged Hiccup to go through one of the glass doors that led to an empty computer lab. "We have top of the line equipment and technology. Did the teachers issue you your e-pad?"

"What's that?" Hiccup mumbled in a daze while he stared wide eyed at the intricate computer system. His fingers itched in excitement, wanting to try the equipment as soon as he's allowed to do so. He may have come from a poor family and never owned a computer in his life but he always utilized the comp labs to good use.

"It's a tablet that contains everything you need. The faculty no longer requires us to just rely on printed books when we can have this..." Astrid took out a slim looking device from her bag and showed him how to use it.

Hiccup grinned when he realized that he would own one soon. "This is amazing!"

"Not really," she shrugged, "They need to release a more current version and..."

Her voice suddenly trailed off into silence and her blue eyes lost that sparkle of friendliness. Astrid glared at someone behind Hiccup's back and he stiffened up when a hand gripped his right shoulder.

"Hey, babe, what are you doing with this doofus?" Arrogance dripped in the newcomer's tone. Thick fingers dug into Hiccup's shoulder muscles, making him hiss in pain.

"Official head business," Astrid said calmly as she removed the offending hand away from the new student's shoulder. "So let me finish my duties, Snotlout, and go back to your class. Bring your sidekick Tuffnut with you while you're at it."

Hiccup blinked in disbelief at the odd names. He turned around, staring at the pair who rudely intruded his school tour. The arsehole right behind his back had chin length black hair, muscled arms, and a sneer that could strike fear into any poor soul. Beside him stood another student with blonde dreadlocks and a malicious smirk that spelled trouble.

They scowled at him, trying to act like intimidating thugs but Hiccup stood a whole head higher than the jock and still towered a few inches over the other boy. It lessened the feral bully image quite a lot. A snort of laughter escaped his lips and Astrid looked at Hiccup in horror, her eyes silently begging him to shut the hell up.

"Are you laughing at me?" The shorter boy snapped.

"Yeah, are you laughing at him?" The blonde surfer looking dude repeated with a scowl.

"Please tell me that Snotlout and Tuffnut are nicknames because both of you just won the weird name contest." Hiccup snarked honestly, "I mean, I know my name is fucked up but yours just won the grand prize."

The comment earned him furious snarl.

The dark haired boy bared his teeth and shoved the new student away, almost pushing him off-balance. "Stay away from my blondie, slim stick. She belongs to me."

"I'm not your anything, Snotlout." Astrid coolly stated with a glare that could pulverize a rock in its intensity.

Hiccup smiled at her obvious dismissal of the boy's advances. Astrid's no nonsense attitude made him admire her even more. "I don't think she's comfortable with you calling her with that pet name."

"Don't you know who I am?" Snotlout further demanded. Anger burned in his eyes when Hiccup merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Nope," Hiccup popped the 'p' and grinned, making the bully bristle even more.

"I'm Lord Snotlout of House Jorgenson. I'm going to rule one day so you shut your mouth and listen to what I say. Stay away from my girl or else..."

Snotlout spat the threat making Astrid flinch and look at the new student with worry.

Hiccup frowned, not liking how she reacted. "I think she's the one who wants to stay away from you," the need to protect pushed him on to speak the naked truth, "so maybe you should leave Astrid alone."

He should have seen it coming. A tightly clenched fist punched Hiccup in the eye. The movement too quick for him to detect. His neck painfully snapped back. The prosthetic foot slid on the marble flooring, making him lose his balance and he crashed down to the ground.

Tuffnut whooped in excitement. "Finish him, Snot! Crush the enemy!"

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" Astrid screamed.

"Why should I, princess?" Snotlout threw in another quick jab. A tell-tale sickening crunch made Astrid think the bullying arse had finally crossed the line. Hiccup groaned in pain as his hand tried to stop the blood from flowing out of his nose.

"I am responsible for his welfare! Stop this," she shouted at them, "Stop it now."

"Come on, Astrid." Snotlout pouted, "You're no fun!"

Hiccup struggled to stand up on his own, wanting to fight back, but he froze in horror when he his prosthetic and shoe clattered to the floor.

"Oh shit. His foot fell off." Tuffnut cackled in glee, "My sister needs to see this!" He took his smart phone to photograph the scene then proceeded to send the picture to every name included his contact list.

Flushing in embarrassment, Hiccup retrieved his shoe and prosthetic, pulling up one pant leg to re-attach it to the amputated stump. Astrid quickly moved to the newbie's side and tried to assess the damage done.

"I'm fine," Hiccup ground out, hissing in pain when she touched his face.

"You're not fine!" Astrid hissed at him, "Your nose needs some ice and your right eye is swollen. Come on, there's usually some available at the infirmary."

"Come on, Astrid. Why waste your time on twerps like this one when you can have me?" Snotlout flexed his biceps. "I have a party at the manor this Saturday. You're expected to be there. We can work out in the basement. You look like someone who works out."

Astrid shut her eyes and clenched her fists. She punched the wall beside Snotlout's head, making the boy freeze in place.

"I don't care for your party," she ground out, "I don't care if you work out. You just clocked a new student and it's my responsibility as Head Girl to take care of him. So why don't you and Tuffnut toddle off to the next class while I drag the new kid to the infirmary?"

"Sure," Snotlout grinned, absolutely giddy at his girl's show of prowess. "You don't need to punch walls to get my attention, babe. Your wish is my command." He took Astrid's hand and kissed the bruised knuckles, making her shiver in disgust. "See you tomorrow at the party. I'm sure you'll enjoy a dip in the Jacuzzi with me." He winked at her before exchanging a high-five with Tuffnut. They left the comp lab cackling like a couple of fools.

"Can you stand?" Astrid wiped her hand clean, removing any lingering Snotlout related germs.

"I'm fine." Hiccup stared at his blood soaked hand and groaned. Shit. His first day had just gone to Hel.

"Split lip, black eye, broken nose and some bruising. Yep, you're fine." She rolled her eyes and helped him to stand on his feet, "Come on. The infirmary's this way."

Hiccup used Astrid as a human crutch as he limped towards the infirmary. His prosthetic wobbled with every step he made. It took quite a while to get to their destination and she felt relieved when a nurse accommodated them immediately.

"Just sit there and wait while I grab an ice pack and some bruise paste." The nurse informed them, "We'll clean you right up. Can you tell me who did this?"

Hiccup fumed in anger and started to speak, "A guy named Snot..."

"No one," Astrid said immediately, cutting him off. Hiccup glared at her but Astrid shook her head, "Trust me. It was an accident."

The nurse nodded, getting the hidden meaning immediately. "I suggest you try to avoid any further accidents, Mr. Cloud."

Hiccup moaned when Astrid gently applied an ice pack against his swollen eye. The nurse wiped away the now clotting blood around his injured nose and noted that the damage had been minimal even if the blood flow had been prolific. Medicated paste and antiseptic had been dabbed upon his split lip and bruises. Astrid thanked the medical assistant and sat beside the new student, tending to his wounds.

"You shouldn't have done that," she told him, "You'll get another black eye if you act that stupid again."

Hiccup scowled. "I just defended your honor and you're telling me that I shouldn't have done it?" He felt a bit miffed at her reaction. "A little bit of thanks should suffice."

"I can defend myself." Astrid insisted, "I'm an axe throwing champion, remember? But you can't defend yourself against the institution. You're a newbie, Hiccup. You're practically a baby diving into a shark tank. You don't even know what you just got yourself into. Shit. You don't even come from a noble family. If Snotlout decides to drive you into a corner then there's nothing you and I can do about it."

"Why did you tell the nurse that it was an accident?" He frowned in disappointment. "What happened obviously wasn't one. He punched me, Astrid. Snotlout hurt me for trying to speak the truth. I can't believe you lied to protect that arse!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" she protested. "There's no point in reporting this incident to the faculty when they wouldn't do anything about it."

His eyes widened in surprise. Astrid sighed as her frustrations mounted.

"Snotlout Jorgenson is the most powerful kid in this school," she explained quietly, "He does anything that he wants to do and everyone else caters to his whims. Listen to me, Hiccup. If you want to stay in the institute then you need to avoid him at all cost."

"One kid can't have all that power. He can't just punch people without facing some sort of justice."

"Believe me when I say that he has immense power over the whole faculty. Everyone expects him to be slotted as first in line to the crown."

Hiccup narrowed his eyes. "But that's impossible because..."

He closed his mouth again when Astrid raised a brow at him, looking at him inquisitively. Hiccup groaned in annoyance because he couldn't tell her the truth even if he wanted to. He yearned to tell her everything, to scream to the rooftops that Snotlout had no legal rights to the throne.

But Hiccup refrained himself saying anything damning because he never really planned to stay long in Berk anyway.

Astrid's fingers nervously toyed with the end of her braid. "I know you're new here but you have to understand that the succession would naturally fall into Snotlout's hands and if that ever happens he'll wield absolute power. Shit will hit the fan the moment that idiot has a crown on his head."

He noticed her discomfort gave her a kind smile. "I don't really care about Snotlout, but I do want to thank you for taking care of me today."

"Well, he got two punches in," Astrid muttered in annoyance, "I haven't done my job well."

"Maybe I should just go home and come back to school next week" Hiccup muttered when he got a glimpse of his battered reflection in a nearby mirror. He looked really bad. "I don't feel comfortable introducing myself to my classmates when I look like I just survived a severe beating."

Astrid nodded in agreement, "I'll ask the nurse to call your parents. And Hiccup..."

He turned towards her when she mentioned his name. Astrid smiled shyly, her dainty fingers squeezing his hand in gratitude.

"Thanks for everything."

Hiccup grinned, his eyes half-lidded and completely infatuated. All the pain in his body suddenly melted away.

"You're welcome, milady."

-o-0-o-

"I've kept them safe, Stoick. All these years I've made it a priority to care for Hiccup, to try and guide him through this mad world."

Gobber raised his tankard in a salute before he gulped down a generous amount of mead. He lingered in the King's Study, sharing a toast with his old friend. The palace only served the best so his drink already made him a bit tipsy. Quite a record for someone who treated mead like a refreshing glass of water. He turned to Stoick who nursed a shot of whiskey, his green eyes staring blankly at the fireplace.

"I should have married Valka," the redheaded man grumbled, "I should have watched my son grow up from infancy."

"Well, he hasn't done much growing till last year to tell yah the truth," the blacksmith divulged as he scratched the back of his neck, "Hiccup's always been a bit of a runt until the lad had been smacked in the head by a sudden growth spurt. Finally gave him a bit of needed height advantage but I honestly thought he would be small for tah rest of his life."

"He's still thin," Stoick noted critically, "He needs to put some meat on those bones if he wants to rule properly. No Berkian would respect someone as reedy as that boy."

"Yeh might end up feeling disappointed in the lad if yah saw him during his growing up years then." Gobber continued on, "Always got in a lot of trouble, that one. Always wanted to prove his worth and got into more snits that yah can count on one hand. He's not perfect, Stoick. He's more of a walking disaster when he's not thinking his way through, but he's done a bit of growing up even if he's still as stubborn as a Boar."

Stoick pinched the bridge of his nose and refilled his shot glass. To tell the truth, he felt at a loss, not knowing how to relate to a son whom he had never met before. He had seen the potential in the boy, the key traits that could define him as a successful future ruler of the kingdom. Yet he yearned to mold Hiccup into a proper Haddock, into a formidable leader that can strike fear into the hearts of men.

"I do not know how to act like a father," Stoick admitted gruffly, "I am familiar with being a politician, to acting like a King who cares for his people, but to take care of a teenager? Especially one who can spew sarcasm out of his arse like seasoned professional..."

"Eh, his sarcasm is one of his defining traits," Gobber quipped as he sipped from his tankard, "but he's brilliant once he's put his mind tah work."

The blacksmith relayed how the boy could be deemed as a genius in metallurgy and engineering, having a fantastic mind that could work out projects in a flash. Stoick listened intently, one hand rubbing at his beard as he drank more whiskey. He deemed that those traits could useful for an inventor or a blacksmith but utterly useless for someone being groomed to sit upon a throne. Stoick knew his child needed to be trained properly in political intrigue in order to survive the cutthroat nature of the court.

Someone knocked on the door, disrupting their private conversation. Stoick hid the whiskey away, concealing the fact that he had been drinking himself blind for the last two hours.

"Come in..."

The double doors swung open as Silent Sven entered the study. The advisor bowed before before whispering an urgent message into his liege's ear.

Stoick hissed, "Only a day in and the boy already created trouble. Is he always like this?"

"Are yah talking about the lad? What has he done now?" Gobber smiled in amusement, "Did another bullying bastard punch him in the face?"

"This is not the first time?" Stoick stared at his friend in alarm. "This happens often?"

"I told yah the lad's a natural magnet for trouble. He's an easy target. Some of tah kids from his past schools called him names but the nasty ones always did a bit of violence. Don't yah worry yerself." Gobber patted the other man's arm in assurance, "He's always survived it."

Stoick narrowed his eyes and disagreed. The boy already got a broken nose and a black eye - a disgrace for someone with Haddock blood running through his veins. He couldn't let this go on.

He has to do something about it.

-o-0-o-

Hiccup groaned as he scratched the tip of his splinted nose. Bucket and Mulch fetched him from school as soon as the school nurse alerted his next of kin about the incident. They drove him back home to Raven's Point Manor while Astrid attended the rest of her classes. He winced when he passed by a mirror in the foyer, knowing that it would be difficult to excuse his injuries. Then he stiffened in surprise, dread pooling in his gut as he saw his father awaiting his arrival.

"Dad! You're back," Hiccup grimaced when his father scowled.

"It seems that you've been caught in a brawl..." Stoick's voice sounded deep and angry.

"I have?" Hiccup laughed awkwardly, even if he had the damning evidence displayed on his face.

"Nothing ever happens in this kingdom without me hearing about it." Stoick advanced towards his son, "So, let's talk about how you got punched in the face on your first day of school."

Hiccup exhaled a long breath. The fear of being a disappointment made him cower a bit when his father towered over him.

"Who did this?" Stoick asked, "Tell me, boy! I want to know the bastard who punched you in the eye." He knew that the nurse did not mention the name of the perpetrator and he swore to expel the idiot who hurt his son. He barely heard Hiccup's voice when he whispered the perpetrator's name.

"Some arsehole named Snotlout Jorgenson."

Stoick gnashed his teeth. He grabbed the back of his son's blazer, hauling him up the stairs that led to the second floor of the manor. The boy spouted a variety of apologies, unable to do anything else as they traveled toward the East Wing near the king's private quarters. They entered a well equipped gym, complete with a boxing ring situated in the middle of the room. Stoick smacked a pair of padded gloves on Hiccup's chest and leveled a hard stare at the lad.

"Put those on and hit me," he growled the command.

Hiccup gulped a shaky breath and stared at his father with panicked eyes. "I can't..." he flexed his reedy arms. "Haven't you seen these? I'm not built like you. I'll break my bones."

"You will not know your worth until you give this a try." Stoick fitted the gloves around his son's hands. "Now punch me with all your strength. Punch me, now."

Hiccup stared at his father, wondering if the old man had lost his mind. Biting his lip, he honed in a measly jab, wincing in fear when his father released an audible huff. Stoick held Hiccup's arms up and corrected his son's stance, tilting Hiccup's chin down before he urged the boy to punch him once more. They repeated the process again and again until Hiccup screamed in protest.

"I can't do this! I'm not built for boxing. I can hardly move my arms!"

"You need to learn to defend yourself, boy!" Stoick snarled in anger, "I won't let you become a punching bag for my own nephew!"

Hiccup stared at his father in astonishment. "Snotlout is my cousin?"

"Yes," Stoick confirmed, "The offspring of my bastard half-brother."

Hiccup removed his gloves and frustratingly pulled at his sweat drenched hair. The surprising news still swirled in his mind. He never knew he had any relatives for his mother had been orphaned quite early in her life. To know that his only cousin just beat him up without care made him feel sick.

"You need to learn how to fight back," Stoick told him, "You need to learn how to be aggressive and how to protect yourself. A prince cannot be defeated in combat, may it be physical or mental warfare. You cannot let yourself be continually bullied!"

"But I'm not yet a prince! I'm just a hiccup!" Hiccup yelled at his father. Years upon years of resentment made him feel so livid. "You don't know what I've been through and what kind of shit I've been subjected to. You think I wanted to be bullied by my cousin? That I wanted to be mocked and jeered as if I didn't matter? I never wanted to be treated like an outcast. It's not my fault that no one ever wanted me!"

He cried through gritted teeth, tears flowing freely as he spoke in a voice so small that Stoick had to strain his ears in order to understand his son's words. "I'm the kid who always gets picked last for groupings, who never had a partner during field trips. No one ever wanted me in their team..." Hiccup's green eyes glared at his father accusingly. "And you didn't even want me!"

"What are you talking about, boy?" Stoick eyes widened in surprise, "I searched the whole damned world for you! I wanted you for a son and I regret that I never saw you grow up!"

"But you left us!" Hiccup screamed, "You left mom and disappeared for seventeen years! Why do you think I'm so fucked up? It's because my own dad never cared about me!"

Stoick took a step back, shocked by his son's words. "Is that what your mother had been telling you? That I left her?"

"Do you deny it?" Hiccup snarled, "Do you deny that you abandoned your family?"

His son's words felt like fatal blow cutting deep into his heart. Stoick recoiled when he found out about his beloved's treachery. He loved Valka. He yearned to have a family with her, to be entwined with her in holy matrimony. To realize that she had lied all these years hurt so much more.

"I only found out about your existence the day after your grandfather died." He informed his son gravely, "Your mother never told me we had a son and I would never have known about your existence if I never found your picture hidden inside a vault. I never knew about you because you have been kept from me!"

"You never knew about me..." The truth hit Hiccup like a sledgehammer. He knew there had been obvious discrepancies in his mother's story. Now he understood why his father had been so eager to meet him, why his mother looked so afraid to tell him the truth.

"I do not know how to act like a father and I admit I am still at a loss at the news that I have a son," Stoick admitted honestly, "but that does not mean that I do not want you, Hiccup."

"I don't know if I can become your heir," he told his father honestly, "I've been such a failure in life. You need someone better for the role. Maybe Snotlout would be a better pick."

"Everyone fails," Stoick told him patiently, "No, Hiccup. Look at me. I have failed you and your mother. I never questioned why Valka abandoned me and only wallowed in my pain, not willing to find out why she left me. I never knew that she was pregnant. If I only searched for the truth then you would have been raised by my side. No one is perfect, son. Not even me."

"But what can you expect from a kid who is named a Hiccup?"

Stoick frowned when he noticed his son's glaring insecurities. He hated that the boy had such a low outlook about his own worth.

"You cannot change your name and you cannot change your past. But there is one thing I know that is true..." He looked directly into Hiccup's eyes and said, "You are my son and my heir. It is your birthright to walk beside me in the hall of kings. You are not worthless. You are not unwanted. Prove your bullies wrong, Hiccup. Prove them wrong."

To be continued...

 **A/N:**

 **The theme of this story is very close to my heart. Bullying will never be okay. I've experienced it firsthand during my childhood. I had been bullied for years and even experienced being excluded in groupings and not having a partner during field trips. Thankfully, I learned how to stand up for myself and everything changed since then. If you see a kid or a classmate who is being bullied, please reach out to them and treat them with kindness. No one deserves abuse.**

 **Happy New Year everyone! Thank you for reading this story and leaving reviews. It really makes me happy when people enjoy my story.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Jorgenson Manor stood like a formidable fortress, dauntingly cold and ominous in the darkness of the night. Its slate grey walls and gothic architecture perfectly mirrored the mood of its current owner. Father and son partook of a delectable feast in the main dining hall, sampling the different courses prepared for their enjoyment.

Yet everything tasted like sawdust to Spitelout's tongue.

Bitterness crept into his heart as he fumed over his brother's infuriating stubbornness. His mounting frustration amplified by the fact that he spent most of the evening half-listening to his son's senseless babbling. Spitelout scoffed, inwardly regarding his son as a fool.

"And I punched this guy twice this morning. It was absolutely wicked. His nose bled everywhere and his foot fell off. Tuff took pictures of everything and..."

"Enough!" Spitelout glared at his son, "I have better things to do than to listen to you prattle on and on about inanities."

"But..." Snotlout glumly looked down at his half-eaten plate, "I thought you'd be happy and I just wanted to tell you about my day..." His voice sounded so small, so different from the arrogant tone he used whenever he waived his lofty position over the rest of his peers. The bulky teenager hunched his shoulders, cowering even more when his father scowled at him.

"Do I look like I'm interested?"

"No, Sir." Snotlout mumbled then winced when his father banged one fist upon the table. He expected to feel a sharp slap on his cheek but released a sigh of relief when nothing else happened.

"Go to your room," Spitelout pointed a finger towards the door, "and shut yourself in it. Don't go out until morning or I'll cancel your precious house party. Do you understand?"

The command rang clear and the boy nodded his head immediately, "Yes, Sir."

Spitelout steepled his fingers. He watched contentedly as his son timidly rose up from his seat and clumsily bowed low in respect. The boy hurriedly sprinted out of the room as if his life depended on it, giving his father some much needed privacy.

Firm fingers gripped the thin stem of a crystal goblet, swirling the dark colored wine within it. Spitelout sipped the fine merlot, tasting its bitter yet sweet flavor. Just like the circumstances that had been thrust upon him since birth.

His son needed to learn his place. To be reminded about whom wielded true power and control. It would not do for the child to think differently. Snotlout would be molded into an unintelligent pawn, a mere puppet that needed someone else cunning enough to pull the strings.

A loud ringing pulled the man out from his reverie. Spitelout sighed and set his wineglass upon on the table. One hand dug deep into his breast pocket to retrieve his mobile and he answered the call.

"I got your message," A garbled voice spoke, clearly distorted to hide one's identity.

"And I need your services, old friend," Spitelout grinned wickedly, his tongue darted out to lick his lips, "My brother is hiding something and I need you to uncover it for me using any means necessary..."

-o-0-o-

Bright blinding sunlight suddenly filtered into the darkened bedroom when the heavy drapes were pulled apart. Hiccup hid his auburn head beneath a pile of fluffy pillows, groaning miserably.

Every muscle in his body felt sore and aching. A product of non-stop sparring the night before that left him too tired to do nothing else but flop down on the soft bed like a dying fish. His bruises hurt like hell. Fatigue coaxed him to stay still. He wanted nothing more than to snooze the day away, to act dead to the world. But his wishes had been crushed the moment a large hand snatched away his pillows and shook his shoulder.

"Get up your lazy arse up and running, boy!"

Hiccup swore and wrapped himself with the quilted comforter, mimicking a human burrito. Blearily opening his good eye, he saw that his dad wore a black sweatshirt, jogging pants, and trainers while his uncle wore his usual set of clothes and held a timer in one hand.

"It's the weekend, Dad, perfect day to laze around like a dragon in bed." Hiccup protested wearily wriggling his body dramatically to prove his point. "My muscles are dying, atrophying, and screaming obscenities in pain. Give me some slack and let me hibernate like a dead bear till next week."

He shut his eyes once more and gave a fake snore. Then he jolted. The early morning chill slapped against his skin the moment Gobber ripped the thick comforter away from his body. Hiccup clumsily rolled over, miscalculated the distance, and fell off the edge of the bed with a loud thud.

"What the bloody fuck!" He yelled, rubbing a hand at his sore bottom then glared at his chuckling uncle.

"Get on your feet, lad!" Gobber enthusiastically crowed, "No guts, no glory!"

Hiccup pierced them with his scowl of intense displeasure. Forest green eyes narrowed when he noticed the maniacal glint in both men's eyes.

"Okay. You two are planning something. I don't think I want to know what it's going to be..."

Gobber leaned down to ruffle the boy's auburn head, "It's only what I should've done ages ago if yer mother only allowed meh tah do it."

Stoick loudly popped the bones in both of his knuckles and gave a menacing grin.

"It's training time."

Training time turned out to be rigorous back breaking routine of push-ups, curl-ups, weight training, and sparring inside his father's well equipped gym for two straight hours. Hiccup barely managed to do much due the disadvantage of his prosthesis and his scrawny body's overall lack of fitness. Stoick patiently gave a helping hand whenever the boy stumbled, steadying his son's stance whenever Hiccup lost his balance, and correcting the boy's bad posture whenever needed. Gobber leaned against the one of the posts, pleasantly watching the duo tire themselves into a sweaty mess, and opting to take notes rather than act as an active participant.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Hiccup gasped, settling his padded hands upon his knees for balance, "Murder through exercise. Put it in my obituary."

Sweat dripped off his face, plastering auburn bangs against his forehead. He pulled his boxing gloves off, threading his fingers through his slicked hair then grimaced when everything just felt too sticky.

"I need a bath... I smell like a Gronkle," he frowned further when he got a good look at the mirror attached to the gym's wall. The swelling in his eye mellowed down into an ugly purple bruise, "and I still look like shit."

"You smell like a man and look like a man," Stoick puffed his chest with pride and patted his son's sweat drenched back. "We're just building up your strength and endurance, son. And you need a new leg," he frowned, pointing at the metal prosthesis. "This one is not built for optimum balance and quick movements."

"Well, I'm sorry if it's not good enough for your esteemed royal tastes, your majesty, because I just made it on my own." Hiccup snarked then pouted. "It's not as if I can create cutting edge technology in Gobber's makeshift forge. It's not really dynamic but it's the best I can do due to circumstances."

Stoick spared an incredulous glance at his friend. "He made his own prosthesis?"

Gobber shrugged one shoulder. "Eh, Valka and I don't earn much. We couldn't raise enough money to buy one of fancy ones offered by the hospital so the lad forged his own with Gronkle iron," he admitted honestly, "Maybe yah can fund the lad with a new leg since this one is not up tah yer standards."

Stoick stroked his beard, his mind mentally noting this important revelation on his to-do list. Perhaps he could order Sven to search for the best hospitals that can provide for his son's needs. He wanted the best and only the best for Berk's soon to be Crown Prince, for the son that he had almost never met. If that meant that he would spend thousands of runes to get him what he needs, then so be it.

The men halted their conversation when the entrance to the gym burst open. Mrs. Ack curtsied merrily and said, "Breakfast is ready your majesties!"

"Finally," Hiccup whined as his stomach growled in agreement, craving for much needed sustenance. He petulantly threw his boxing gloves to the corner of the room and met the chamberlain with a wide smile. "Thank you so much for saving me from imminent death."

"Well maybe after you first get yourself a good bath you smelly pillock!" Mrs. Ack sniffed and haughtily pinched her nose. "The Grand Duchess will be joining you all this morning. It ain't good to offend her sensitive nostrils."

Gobber and Stoick exchanged amused looks and simultaneously snorted in laughter. Hiccup threw his hands up in a rude gesture and dragged his tired arse towards the gym's in-house shower and sauna, mumbling profanities under his breath.

They were ushered towards the solarium after they – yes, even Gobber - had a refreshing shower. Sunlight filtered through the solarium's glass panels, illuminating the tropical palm and fern paradise within it. An iron wrought table set up to seat six had been prepared because his father and uncle couldn't fit into a smaller one. Platters of food were laid upon it filled with freshly baked bread, scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, and ham.

The starving males licked their lips and happily settled on their chosen seats. Stoick and Gobber piled their plates with mounds of food, devouring their first servings like a hungry pair of whispering deaths. Hiccup froze still when thick ropes were wrapped around his chest and shoulders, effectively trapping him in place.

"Is this some weird bondage ritual because I really don't think it's considered good manners to tie up your guests during a meal?"

"Don't you worry lad," Mrs. Ack gave him a dimpled smile as she knotted the ropes nice and tight behind his chair, causing the boy's bad posture to straighten up involuntarily. "This is all for your training."

Gobber snickered around his mouthful of bacon when his apprentice glowered like a grouchy toddler. Hiccup tried to nudge his way out of the bonds. It stayed tightly coiled around his body. He reached out a hand and grabbed a fork, straining and stretching with all his might to stab a sausage.

His elbow knocked a glass of orange juice in the process, tipping it over and spilling its contents.

"Bloody fucking dragon shit of a half-troll!"

Hiccup cringed as ice cold pulp and juice dripped all over his lap. Something hard swiped the back of the boy's head, breaking off his tirade of expletives. He jerked in his seat, head swiveling sideways to glare at Mrs. Ack - only to find someone else instead.

She looked old, more ancient than life itself and wore clothing that predated the modern era. Waist length grey hair twisted into twin braids and short bangs adorned her forehead. Her back stooped low with age, yet she still looked formidable even with her petite form. The woman narrowed her hooded grey eyes, thumping the end of her wooden staff on the floor and frowned deeply, quite disappointed with Hiccup's smart mouth.

"Great Aunt Gothi," Stoick rose from his seat and bowed respectfully.

Gobber clumsily mimicked his friend and said, "Good tah see yah, yah crusty old gal!"

That earned the blacksmith two loud smacks in the head. Gothi shook her wooden staff and silently showed him her clenched fists.

"No need fer violence this early in tah morning, eh?" Gobber rubbed the sore spot on his head and winked slyly, "Why don't yah join us as we laugh at yer great-great nephew."

"Thanks for your unfailing support, uncle," Hiccup deadpanned. "I can feel your unconditional love."

His father and uncle laughed heartily as Mrs. Ack wiped away the puddle of juice with a rag and settled a new glassful in front of the teen. This time she gave him a plateful of eggs and fried meat.

"Now try not to be more careful this time," she winked.

They carried on with their early morning meal. Hiccup still struggled to eat without losing bits of food to the floor. The ropes held tight, hindering his every movement. He gritted his teeth in frustration, "Is this really training because this resembles more like a hostage situation... unless you want me to learn how to Houdini my way out."

"Trust me, son." Stoick smiled knowingly, "This is for you own good. We are going to train every morning until you can punch like pro. Mrs. Ack and Great Aunt Gothi will teach you everything you need to learn during the evenings after school and the whole day during the weekends. It will be helpful if you learn fast. If everything goes well, we can introduce you to Berkian society a month before I am crowned as king."

"Well, that's nice if I agree to be your prince," Hiccup pointed out, "but I still have the option to decline."

The king-to-be frowned for a moment then switched his expression to a more neutral one, "That still remains to be seen. But I will try my best to persuade you to stay."

The words spoken like a true politician.

 _Just as mom warned..._

Hiccup contemplatively stared at his plate. His hold on his fork tightened slightly as he stabbed at another innocent piece of bacon. His father's ambitions for his future felt like a tightening noose around his neck, slowly and surely rooting him into a role that he wasn't sure he even wanted. Yet he could not give up on his dreams...

And he would rather lose everything than lose his best friend

-o-0-o-

The weekend flew by, passing so quickly that it made his mind whirl. Hiccup used up most of his Sunday morning sparring once again with his father in the middle of a boxing ring. He spent the rest of the day cooped up in the library being tutored about Berkian History, court manners, and most importantly royal etiquette. He spent hours walking back and forth, learning to balance a thick book on the top of his head while his tutors quizzed him about his ancestor's conquests.

And Viking Kings, to Hiccup's chagrin, had done innumerable said conquests.

Then Monday came and it was time to go back to the institute.

He opened his eyes the moment his alarm rang and got out of bed grinning like a fool. Hiccup felt unusually giddy and energized for a boy who usually hated school with a passion. Because as much as he wanted to avoid Snotlout and his lackey...

Going to school also meant that he could to see Astrid Hofferson.

Astrid, the girl who acted kind to him, nursed his injuries, and earned his trust. He couldn't help it. His admiration for her steadily grew into a full blown crush.

So he eagerly dressed himself in his uniform, making sure that he looked just right, yearning to impress. Yet he could only sigh at his reflection. The bruises around his nose and right eye already transformed into an ugly shade of purple with a green tinge around the edges. He knew, from personal experience, that it would take weeks before the injury would disappear completely.

"Och, you're looking glum," Mrs. Ack noted as she entered his bedroom. She carried freshly laundered sheets on her arm for his bed.

"I look like shit," Hiccup grumbled, "And I honestly don't want to present myself like this..."

There was a frustrated tone in his voice and the chamberlain nodded in understanding.

"I know just the thing to help you," Mrs. Ack gently pinched his bruised cheek, "Just wait here until I come back."

She laid the sheets on his mattress and left the room, only to come back in with a little zipped bag clutched in her hand. It turned out to be filled with cosmetics and she pulled out a small tube of concealer that matched his skin tone perfectly. With a few swipes and a little bit of blending, the discoloration vanished into unblemished skin.

He looked normal, like nothing happened.

Hiccup sighed in relief.

He glanced down at his legs and determinedly made a choice. Bending over, he folded the left pant leg and tucked it in neatly, making sure the metal foot was attached more tightly than before. The prosthesis now stood out like a sore thumb, no longer hidden like a dirty secret. He no longer wanted to hide the truth.

Not anymore.

Hiccup pursed his lips and gathered every bit of courage he had. He sauntered to his sitting room with his iron foot displayed proudly, only to be surprised by what he saw. His father sat on the sofa next to Gobber while Mrs. Ack and Gothi both smiled at him, sitting comfortably on chintz chairs.

Stoick stood on sure feet and placed one firm hand on his boy's shoulder. "We are here to wish you good luck, son."

The boy felt his cheeks go warm. "I'm just going to school," he mumbled, embarrassment made him turn his cheek away, "Nothing special."

"I just want you to remember what I told you," his father spoke softly, "That no one has a right to make you feel bad about yourself."

"And that the best way tah solve problems is to give 'em a fast jab in the eye," Gobber advised as he gave the boy a one arm hug. When Stoick glared his disapproval, the blacksmith added, "only when it's needed of course."

When Mrs. Ack approached Hiccup, she smoothed the lapels of his school blazer with her hands and straightened his collar.

"Remember what we taught you," she told him. "Stomach in, shoulders back, keep your spine straight, and give them a warm smile. Confidence is something that springs from within. You need to believe in yourself, your highness. You need to know your worth."

The chamberlain gave him a brown paper bag filled with bread and cheese and a tumbler filled with hot chocolate. Hiccup gladly accepted it, slipping his breakfast into his messenger bag. Gothi stood from her seat and gently touched the end of her staff on the boy's forehead, giving him her blessing. She nodded her head twice and wrote on the carpeted floor using the end of her staff. Gobber brightened up when he correctly deciphered the message.

"We are all here for yah," the blacksmith said, "remember that."

Hiccup swallowed thickly. He gazed at his new family, at the people who sacrificed their time to teach him what they knew. They wanted him believe in himself, thinking that he could become something marvelous. Tears started to form in the corner of his eyes but he wiped them away, not wanting to lose his composure. He gave them a small yet thankful smile.

For most of his life he been known as Hiccup the Useless, the nerd who could never amount to anything. He used to only have his mom and Gobber, but now things were different.

His life was different.

He felt accepted, surrounded by people who loves and believes in him, and it felt so damn good.

-o-0-o-

"Yah look cheerful today, yer highness! Looking forward to school?"

Mulch tipped his horned helmet in greeting. The whole car rumbled into life as the guard started the car's engine. Bucket adjusted the bucket hat on his head and slid into the passenger side, attaching the safety belt with a click.

"Well for the first time, yes," Hiccup answered truthfully, beaming like happily as he settled himself in the backseat.

Warmth still lingered in his chest even as he and his guards drove away from his new home. They left earlier than usual in an effort to beat the rush hour traffic that usually congested Berkian streets in the mornings. The roads still mostly cleared and the weather idyllic. Hiccup quietly nibbled on his bread and sipped the still warm tumbler of hot chocolate, contently silent as he studied the scenery around him. He filed every detail into his memory, slowly familiarizing himself with the land of his ancestors. Berk still held a sense of mystery ready to be explored and he yearned to see everything.

When their car had entered a small bridge, Bucket suddenly spoke up in alarm.

"We're being followed..."

Hiccup turned his head, peering through the darkly tinted back windows. He could see a truck and few sedans, nothing out of the ordinary. Everything looked normal. Then l he saw it. A motorcycle with a missing license plate zigzagged its way, avoiding other vehicles. Its rider wore a nondescript helmet and outfit. One gloved hand steadily manoeuvred the bike.

While the other held a pistol.

A spray of bullets hit the window. Hiccup recoiled, instinctively diving down to floor. The glass cracked. The force of impact created splinters like an intricate spider web. Yet the glass pane still staid whole. Each bullet embedded deep into the thick, poly-carbonate layered glass, unable to pierce through. Tires screeched. Their car careened dangerously to the right, narrowly avoiding colliding against another car and cutting close to the side of the bridge. Mulch quickly steered the wheels to the right direction and stomped on the gas for a needed burst of speed.

"This is a Code Red," Bucket spoke to his mobile, "A motorcycle is on our tail, gaining speed and –"

"Sir," Mulch spoke, his unnaturally calm voice cutting through the chaos, "A kevlar ballistic fabric is concealed underneath yer seat. Hide beneath it fer yer safety while we try to shake off tah attacker."

Frantic hands patted around the area searching in haste. Then Hiccup found it. A black cloth folded neatly in its hiding place, its weight quite heavy in his hands. Gripping the corner edge, he unfurled it, making sure to cover it over his whole body and lowered himself to the ground. He cowered in fear. His heart pounded faster and faster.

Gunfire continued on and on, accompanied by the screeching of tires and Mulch's swearing. Then he heard the distinct sound of glass breaking as if something hard and solid had been forcibly smashed against the already fractured window. Nearly deafening gunshots blasted through the air. He could feel the force of its bullets hitting against the fabric that protected his body. He stiffened, absolutely terrified as another round of gunfire could be heard.

And Hiccup hissed in anger and gripped the only thing that's keeping him alive, hating that he could only wait and wait and wait until everything would be over.

-o-0-o-

Printed pictures were scattered upon a glass desk. Three television screens attached to a wall flickered into life. Each showed different Berkian news channels. Communication lines were kept open. Spitelout's fingers drummed against the table's surface. He leaned against his swivel chair, shoulders stiff as he glared at the impressive view of the metropolis. He used to gloat, relishing the scenery that the tallest building in Berk could provide.

Yet he could not savor the feeling and tension coiled around him like a tightly pulled string.

He waited. And waited...

Spitelout hated every minute of it.

Stoick did well. Raven's Point Manor had been closed off, secured in every area possible. The whole estate protected by detailed security protocol more extensive than those used in the palace. Spies could not infiltrate the staff. Unauthorized personnel could not set foot on the property. All that he had to rely on were pictures all taken by long range camera lenses.

His hand picked up a photo. It was taken last Friday mid afternoon. A vehicle other than what his brother usually used entered the estate's premises. One could see a grainy image of a car, of the slim figure walking towards the front door of the manor. Yet image was still too blurred to be properly deciphered, the identity of the person in the image still unknown.

"The target was shot," the garbled voice spoke through the communication system, "My men had done just as you asked."

Spitelout grinned, teeth bared. Excitement thrummed through him. The method he used may be deemed too cruel and extreme. Yet he found it necessary. Let Stoick quiver in fear. Let it be a taste of things to come.

He eagerly leaned forward and spoke through a microphone. "Did they see who was inside? Was it a woman?"

"Negative. They report that the inside of the car was too dark. Our motorcyclists were too fast to notice anything."

No matter. He eagerly asked, "Are they dead?"

"They got away, sir..." a second voice spoke through the line, his voice apprehensive.

Spitelout crushed the photo in his hand and snarled. "You let them get away?"

"Target returned fire. We lost them the moment they entered the underground tunnels. The police are already on the scene."

Spitelout banged his fists on the table. "You promised a complete clean up, Alvin, and this is not helping!"

"My men did as you have asked," The garbled voice calmly spoke, "We spied on your brother's precious house from afar and followed the rabbit trail. I will not allow my men to be apprehended by the law. I expect payment to be rendered immediately to my account before the sun sets."

The communication ended. Static sounded in the room. Spitelout watched the channels once more. News reports of the attack started pouring in. A CCTV video of the entire event had been played and re-played. Yet no news came in about any casualties or the identities of the person sitting inside the vehicle.

He gritted his teeth then forced himself to relax. No matter. The deed was done. The warning had been fired. Let his brother panic along with his insipid people. He needed chaos. He needed terror. He needed the public to cry out for political security.

He needed to plan.

-o-0-o-

Hiccup's whole body shook. His breathing erratic. Then the gunfire ceased. Police sirens replaced the barrage of bullets yet their vehicle did not stop its high-speed course. He strained his ears, waiting for his guards to assure him of their safety. Yet they kept silent. He held his breath until their car slowly came to a stop.

The door by his side opened. Hiccup yelped, stiffening defensively when the Kevlar ballistic fabric had been snatched away from his body. Someone held him by the armpits and hauled him out of the shard filled vehicle. He sighed in relief when Mulch checked him over for any injuries.

Their car looked worse for wear. The window beside his seat obviously smashed in. The front and driver's side windows still held whole even if obviously riddled with bullets.

"We've been attacked," Mulch held a mobile in his hand and quickly relayed the news, "Tah prince is safe but our car is indisposed. We are hiding in tah buy and sell car rental five miles away from the institute. What would be yer next order, Yer Majesty?"

The guard listened intently to the given instructions. Hiccup strained his ears, trying to catch snippets of the conversation. Mulch nodded his head once and terminated the call. He turned to Bucket and conversed with the other man in hushed tones. They nodded simultaneously and marched towards Hiccup, herding the teenager to another car.

This one looked vastly different from his bullet riddled ride. It looked cheap and second hand. Hiccup watched in awe as his guards removed their uniforms and changed into civilian clothing. Mulch slid into the driver's side while Bucket opened the passenger door and pleaded him to go inside.

"Yah need to go to school, Sir." Bucket said.

"I don't think I'm in the mood," Hiccup said, still shaken, "I just got shot at by some lunatic motorcyclists. Fuck school. I want to go back home!"

"But his majesty wants yah to act as if nothing has happened. CCTV would have recorded the incident and it would undoubtedly be televised. Our liege thinks it would be wise for you to act as normal to deflect any thoughts that the attack is connected to you."

"Fuck this," Hiccup yelled, "I never signed up for this!"

He gritted his teeth and crossed his arms. His whole body shivered in anger. Hiccup understood his father's reasoning but the trauma of what happened still shook him to the core. Fuck. He almost died. Hiccup shut his eyes and thanked the heavens that he's alive.

He's alive and that's all that mattered.

"Where are we?" Hiccup asked after a moment.

"This is one of tah businesses yer father had invested in over the years. We've hidden here fer that reason." Mulch explained, "Our other car will be left fer servicing. We can borrow this one to send yah to school. No one will know yeh've been here except me and Bucket."

"Yep," Bucket smiled, "Yer safe now, sir. We'll do our best tah keep yah safe from harm."

Hiccup's shaky fingers pulled at his hair. His heart still pounded fast and furious.

Mulch frowned and gripped his shoulder, "We need tah go. Yer father wants yah to be in school. Yer safer there. We promise."

Hiccup released a sigh of resignation and made his choice.

"Just make sure I reach school alive."

To be continued…

 **A/N: A bit late but I hope this will keep you all happy. I try to write faster but I do not want to post anything half-assed. And wow. I'm humbled by the response I got last chapter. Thank you so much. It is so inspiring.**

 **And to those who said that this story is inspired by The Princess Diaries. Yep, you're correct. Here, have a gold star. I'm happy people pointed it out because I love that movie. But that doesn't mean it will completely follow the movie's storyline.**

 **I'm glad a lot of people appreciate my portrayal of Hiccup and Stoick's relationship. I'm mostly basing my portrayal of Stoick on his HTTYD movie 2 personality, but even so I don't think he was ever physically abusive or too cruel; maybe more of neglectful and unable to relate to his son.**

 **Now here is something extra for you all:**

"Is that..." Hiccup cocked his head to the side, listening intently to the music as they entered the gym, "Eye of the Tiger?"

"Yep, yer father's a big fan of tah song and the films." Gobber said.

"We can view 'em for some father and son bonding time!" Stoick rubbed his hands in glee, acting as if Snoggletog came early.

Hiccup dragged the palm of his hand over his face and said, "Thor save me now."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Gut wrenching dread pervaded the East Wing's study room. All its occupants stared at the brightly lit television screen, watching intently at the emergency news feed.

"A domestic terror attack occurred this morning outside the major Berkian Metropolitan area," a reporter gravely relayed. "Here is a CCTV recording of the whole event..."

The top of the line CCTV tech systems installed in every electricity pole around Berk recorded the entire attack in distinct detail. Two unknown motorcyclists ambushed a lone car. One approached from behind, raining gunfire at the side windows. The other one came from the front, going against the normal of direction of traffic and caused a number of accidents in its wake. Its rider finally broke through the already cracked bullet resistant glass panels with a well-aimed deliberate hit of a crowbar. The first aggressor then took a sharp turn, rubber tires skidding against the pavement, only to return to assail the unprotected broken window with another round of gunfire.

Paralyzing fear struck the formidable monarch to be. For a few seconds, Stoick could not speak a word. His eyes could only widen in shock, his bearded jaw dropping in sharp disbelief. The women standing by his side clasped their hands together while their trembling lips mumbled a litany of words in unceasing prayer. His old friend collapsed upon the couch, looking on in horror.

It was deemed terror attack.

Yet Stoick knew the truth. He construed the situation the moment he recognized the assailed vehicle.

This was an assassination, a bold attempt to kill his son.

The ambush had been expertly executed, too perfect for it to be unplanned. Only the timely presence of the Berk City Police Department drove the assailants away, giving the chance for the attacked vehicle to flee the scene and to enter the underground tunnels.

A ringing sound removed the group from their trance like state. For a moment they all stared numbly at the telephone sitting on top of a desk. Dread pooled in Stoick's gut. His stomach clenched painfully, awaiting and anticipating the worst possible news. Yet the king-to-be visibly stiffened his upper lip, acting determined and nonchalant as expected of his station. He picked the receiver up and set it against his ear, narrowing his eyes as he listened intently. Stoick sat still in his seat then he nodded his head and spoke in a strong determined voice.

"Keep him safe and bring him to the institute. Make sure that no one would link my son to the attack. I'll make arrangements for his protection. Just bring him to school."

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, determined to massage away the oncoming migraine that threatened to split his head into two. Setting the receiver back on its proper place, Stoick re-opened his eyes and gazed upon his family and friends, relaying the much needed news.

"The lad..." Gobber looked at him with a stricken look in his eyes.

"He's safe," Stoick announced, "He's alive. And that is what matters most."

"May the heavens be praised," The chamberlain touched her chest with her hand, letting out a lengthy exhale of breath, relief palpable in her features.

Gothi frowned and thumped her staff. She sat down on the couch next to the blacksmith, exhaustion draining the rest of her strength. Worry still haunted the old woman so Gobber reached out a hand to rub her back. The action earned the blacksmith a soft tap on his forehead although a small smile appeared on the Grand Duchess' wrinkled face. They all returned their attention to their liege, the king-to-be, awaiting his directive.

"What now?" Mrs. Ack asked, wringing her hands in worry. "Whoever attacked the prince must have been staking out the manor, watching our every move. He's not safe here, your majesty."

Gobber nodded his head, "As much as I want Hiccup here with us, tah lad would be better off in a more secluded place fer his protection."

"Yes," Stoick agreed, "We need to plan. We need to keep my son safe and away from prying eyes, concealing him from those who might hurt him."

The red headed man pursed his lips into a thin line. His strong fingers tightened around a pen, almost crushing it in his anger. Stoick exhaled through his nostrils as white hot fury pulsed in his veins.

Someone had the gall, the audacity to attack his child, his son.

And he vowed to make them pay.

-o-0-o-

Hiccup clenched his fists, knuckles bone white with strain. Mind bending fear shook him to the core, leaving him shell shocked and traumatized. He kept his eyes wide open, watching out for any discrepancies in his surroundings, and waiting for an ambush that might not even occur. He couldn't calm himself. His whole body felt like a live wire ready to snap at any moment.

He hated it.

He abhorred the fact that he could have ended up dead, riddled with bullet holes, and drenched crimson with his own blood. He did not want to pretend that nothing happened when he had just experienced a near encounter with Death. Yet Hiccup understood his father's reasoning, accepting that his presence in school could deter any attempt to link him to the terror attack.

It didn't mean that he approved of it.

The car they drove in puttered every now and then; its engine clearly not top of the line. Even so they reached the institute relatively early. A lot of other kids arrived at the same time. Most were dropped off from expensive cars or limousines. Their mode of transportation made his ride looked so glaringly different, so startlingly alien, that those who had been loitering in front of the entrance way gazed upon it with morbid interest. Then he heard the start of cruel laughter and the twitter of gossiping lips as soon as he stepped out of the vehicle.

Second hand cars might be useful for cover-ups but it certainly didn't earn him respect from his peers.

Hiccup lifted his chin, opting to act unaffected. He couldn't let them get to him. Not when he had just experienced a tousle with death and got away with an inch of his life. He oddly felt indifferent and uncaring. As if petty high school drama did not measure up to the terrorizing threat of being shot at several times. In the past he would usually lower his head in shame, letting his auburn fringe to cover his eyes, avoiding anyone else's gaze.

This time he faced them head on, vindicated with the knowledge that he had nothing to be ashamed of.

The truth of his heritage gave him a small sense of strength. He was no longer Hiccup the Useless or Hiccup the Unfortunate; the bullied kid that no one thought would amount to anything. He was Hiccup of House Haddock, heir to the throne if he would only choose to claim it. For the past two days his father and great aunt Gothi drilled that privilege into his head, claiming that he had a right to walk in the hall of kings.

So Hiccup held his head high. He shifted his shoulders back, tilting his chin in a certain way as Mrs. Ack always advised, and straightened his spine. He explored the school halls with a silent pride in his heart, ignoring those around him and focused upon his goal.

The admissions office looked unfortunately empty save for a one man. Hiccup remembered him, recalling that he saw that same teacher last Friday when he had been waiting for any faculty member to cater to his needs. The man looked a bit old with dirty grey hair, a beard, and a big mustache that seems to be growing out of his hooked nose. Walking forward, he rapped his knuckles against the dividing glass.

"I'm a new student. I'm here for my class schedule. Can you hand it to me please?"

"Why should I?" came the snappy reply.

Hiccup cocked his head to the side and arched his brow, "Because it's your job?"

The cantankerous old man curled his lips into a sneer and forcefully opened a filing cabinet to look for the needed class schedule, "Name?"

"Hiccup Cloud," the student replied courteously.

The teacher scoffed at the name, "Never heard of a Cloud before. And it's written in your record that you have switched school eight times within ten years of your educational life. Expelled maybe? Are you a troublemaker, boy?"

"I switched schools because I had to," Hiccup gritted his teeth, "It was not my fault that my mother worked in different countries around the world and that she uproots me more often than I want her to!"

His voice rose to a higher pitch. The teacher sneered.

"I don't like your attitude, new blood. You should learn some respect."

Hiccup ignored the jab and held out a waiting hand, "My class schedule, please."

"That's Sir Mildew to you," The old man slammed a piece of paper and a slim white cardboard box on the counter. He pointed a crooked finger at the door, "Get out of my office!"

"Fine!"

Hiccup snatched his schedule. He opened the box and realized he was issued with his own tablet, similar to Astrid's own. He slipped the white box into his bag and stomped his way out of the admissions office, acting like an immature teenager that wanted to piss off his superiors. No. He didn't have the patience for this kind of bullshit, not after what he had just experienced earlier that morning.

The moment he exited the room his eyes quickly assessed the information printed on the page. The list of subjects included the normal roster of lessons. Mondays and Thursdays had Maths, General Sciences, English, and Foreign Languages. Tuesdays and Wednesdays consisted of Viking History, Computer Science, Music & Art, and Physical Education. Oddly, the schedule on Fridays included courses on Economics, Basic Business Management, and...

Hiccup stilled when he read the end of the list. Forest green eyes widened in surprise, baffled that the institute offered a course only obtainable in specialized universities. Then a joyous smile appeared on his face.

Basic Dragon Training: a subject that he, a kid who had been basically raised by dragons since birth, probably didn't even need.

Yet Basic Dragon Training meant he could study the majestic reptilian beasts that he yearned to interact with

Hiccup missed Toothless, Sharpshot, Grump, and Cloudjumper. He longed to go back to the Dragon Sanctuaries, to fly in the sky with nothing but a leather saddle to keep him safe on dragon back. But he needed to wait patiently until his mother would be able to legally re-locate their dragons to Berk.

Dragon class could also momentarily quell his yearning for his best friend.

He walked around the halls with uplifted spirits, searching for Room 3A where his first class, Mathematics, would be taught in. He found it easily and he silently thanked the heavens that Astrid gave him a quick tour three days before.

Peeking through the glass door, he only saw empty seats. He counted only about ten chairs, quite a small number for a classroom of its size. A large screen and a laptop were situated at the front of the class. Tall floor to ceiling windows let in the bright morning sunlight. Hiccup opted to wait outside, standing beside the door jamb. His observant eyes kept searching for that familiar shade of golden blonde hair. He longed to see Astrid, to talk to her, to have a little bit of sunshine in such a grey looking day.

Soon the other students filed in. Tuffnut and a blonde woman walked by. The girl looked eerily like a twin. The siblings grinned menacingly at him, acting like hungry sharks that detected easy prey.

"Fresh meat," The mischievous glint the girl's eyes sparked nothing but trouble, "I haven't seen you before."

"It's the missing foot guy, Ruffnut!" Tuffnut snickered. "Remember the picture I've sent to like everyone?" The blond pointed at Hiccup's metal foot, cackling with derision.

"Oh a loser then," Ruffnut snorted, "I guess I should go before I get infected by your loser germs." She wiggled her fingers and upturned her nose then followed her brother inside, sitting at the back of the room.

Hiccup clenched his fists. The urge to punch something rose within him. In the end he chose to ignore their heckling and continued to silently observe his other peers.

Snotlout arrived next, growling at him like a rabid dog.

"Why isn't it slim stick. Get the fuck out of my fucking way, new blood!"

The smaller more muscled boy shoved him against the wall before taking a seat at the back beside Tuffnut and his sister. A statuesque girl with long, black hair braided into a plait walked past him. She sat with the group along with a petite blonde with wild unkempt hair. The girls whispered to one another, giving him curious looks, quite interested yet obviously for the wrong reasons.

A tall handsome jock sauntered in with confidence and sat in the middle row. He looked back, smirking at the pretty girls, earning appreciative looks. Tuffnut's sister stood immediately, sitting beside the newcomer.

"Hey Eret. Aren't you handsome." Ruffnut smacked her lips as she reached out a hand to touch the jock's bicep. She bit her lower lip in desire, completely ignoring the handsome male's look of disgust.

Then a husky blonde boy came in and sat at the front of the class.

"I hope I'm not late," he bubbled with excitement, meticulously organizing his e-pad, notepad, and pens on top of his desk. Hiccup decided to finally enter the room to sit beside this student, thinking he could become a potential friend. The other boy looked at him curiously and thankfully did not look at him with contempt.

"Hi there," Hiccup gave a small salute.

"You should move," the husky boy whispered nervously. "You shouldn't sit there."

"But I'm fine here," Hiccup said as he set his bag on the floor. "Why should I move anyway?"

"Because it's my seat..."

Hiccup looked up, his mouth instantly turning up into a welcoming smile. He instantly recognized that girlish voice. His joyful expression faltered when Astrid looked away, avoiding his gaze. She acted so cold, so different. As if she didn't want to see him. As if she couldn't be bothered with his presence. Hiccup knotted his brow in confusion.

"Hey Astrid, I'm glad you're here," he tried to start a congenial conversation, "I was looking for you."

"Don't talk to me as if you know me," she cut him off.

Her words cut deep into Hiccup's heart further spiraling him into a sense of bewilderment.

"You can always sit beside me, princess!" Snotlout shouted from the back. "You don't need to spend time with that one-legged loser."

Hiccup could hear the other kids hooting in laughter. Astrid pursed her lips into a thin disapproving line and glared at clique sitting at the back. She turned to him once more.

"Move to the seat on Fishleg's other side."

This time her clear blue eyes pleaded at him, silently prodding him to do as she willed. The emotion so dissimilar, so different from the coldness she emitted before. Frowning in confusion, Hiccup silently did as he was told. He slid his messenger bag on his shoulder and transferred to the other seat. The husky blonde boy, whom he now knew to be named as 'Fishlegs', gave him a tentative smile. Astrid sat down on her chosen position, quickly pulling out her e-pad from her bag. She stared decidedly at the board just as the teacher walked in and started the lesson.

They treated him like a pariah for the rest of the day, making him feel like an unwanted addition to their class. For now the bullying consisted of taunting and juvenile name calling but Hiccup kept his head down just in case. They called him loser, foot loose, slim stick, and new blood. He couldn't remember how many times Snotlout or Tuffnut made jokes about his metal leg.

The teachers ignored everything. They acted as if nothing odd was happening even if the bullying occurred right before their eyes.

In the end he confirmed one thing.

Snotlout Jorgenson obviously held immense power and influence over the whole school.

The arsehole ruled over his peers and the faculty with ease. The clique followed his every word, every order. The other girls laughed along his unfunny jokes and piled him with compliments while the Tuffnut and the other boy acted as accomplices.

He hoped that the guy named Fishlegs would help him but the husky boy obviously acted too afraid to intervene, too fearful to become a target. Hiccup could remember the palpable pity in the boy's eyes. Fishlegs stayed silent, avoiding talking to the new student even if he obviously allowed Hiccup to sit by his side.

But what cut him the most would be Astrid's avoidance.

When Hiccup would look at her, Astrid would turn her cheek as if he didn't exist. He tried to start a conversation in the hallway after the class ended but would be shut down by her unwillingness to talk to him. Astrid acted as if she didn't see him, skirting away from him for the rest of the class and even the classes after that.

He thought his day would get better, that this school would be different.

Every hope Hiccup had nurtured in his heart crumbled into dust.

-o-0-o-

"Sir, are you okay?"

Hiccup looked up only to see his guards studying him with concern. Mulch and Bucket still wore civilian clothing, camouflaging the fact that they were actually employed as palace guards. The second hand car had been parked in the nearly empty driveway. Most of the other kids already left fetched by expensive looking cars. He currently sat alone on the top step in front of the institute's entrance way. Loneliness crept into his heart and he just wanted to go home.

His definition of the word 'home' used to be a tent located in any Dragon Sanctuary his mother would be stationed in but now it pertained to a extravagant manor where his father lived. He couldn't believe how much his life had been turned upside down.

Yet some things stayed the same.

"Are you okay?" Bucket repeated once again.

"No," Hiccup snapped in frustration, "I'm not."

He wanted to cruelly laugh, to cry, to rage at the situation that he had been thrust into. Yet he only felt helplessness. The cycle of abuse started once again, capturing him in its evil jaws, and crushing him with the weight of his grief. He yearned to be free, to prove them wrong as his father challenged him to do.

But how could he do it when most of his peers already treated him like shit? How could he change the minds of those who wouldn't think twice about calling him names when he couldn't even tell them the truth?

"Time to go, sir," Bucket said, breaking Hiccup away from his troubling thoughts. The older man gave him a kind smile, ignoring the teenager's outburst by patting the boy's shaggy head with a prosthetic hand.

Hiccup smiled gratefully, appreciating the kind gesture. He brushed away the bubbling frustration from his mind, yearning to come back to the family that supported him fully.

"Let's go home..."

He followed them to the second-hand vehicle, feeling much better already. During the ride he silently pondered upon his situation, wondering how he could break away from the cycle to change it for the better. Suddenly, it dawned upon him that they took a different route, an alternate road that would take them away from Raven's Point Manor, far away from the house that he now called home. Instead, they entered the metropolis. The city that captured his imagination the first time he entered Berk.

Sky rises and commercial buildings were separated by wide intersecting streets. Busy citizens roamed the sidewalks, quite cozy in their coats and jackets while mingling and entering a variety of shops and cafes. Hiccup noticed a mall, a variety of government buildings, and several casinos and hotels.

One hotel establishment stood out from the rest. The name Thorston Towers displayed proudly in gold letters on its front. The whole building had been built with reinforced glass tinted with a gold sheen, making it shine and glisten when illuminated by the bright late afternoon sun. Mulch parked the car in front of its entrance doors while Bucket got out of the front seat and opened the door by Hiccup's side.

"Why are we here?" Hiccup asked in puzzlement. "I thought we were going home?"

"Trust us, sir," Bucket said as Mulch exited the banged up car and gave the keys to snooty looking valet. "You are here for a reason. We will keep you safe."

They entered the lavishly decorated hotel. The gold theme carried over into its interior. Lush lime green carpets with gold detailing covered the floor. Grand crystal chandeliers hung in the high ceilings. A gold plated statue of a two-headed Zippleback had been displayed in the middle of an indoor fountain. Everything looked blatantly expensive. Even the people who lingered in the lobby gave the aura snobbery while dressed to the nines in clothing he had only briefly seen in magazines.

The guards herded Hiccup through the lobby, ignoring the concierge, and escorted him to a private elevator located far away from those usually used by other clients. Bucket slid a slim gold card against a scanner then pushed the button for the 45th floor. The metal doors slid close and Hiccup could feel the solid metal shake underneath his feet as they ascended towards the highest floor of the hotel.

His hands shook in trepidation when the elevator's doors opened once more. When he stepped out, Hiccup saw a long hallway with only one door. Bucket once again slid the gold card against a scanner built into the door knob. A ping sounded and the guard twisted the knob, making the door swing open.

"Hiccup!"

A pair of beefy arms surrounded him, dragging him inside, and crushing him into a smelly, musky male body that obviously belonged to his pseudo uncle. Hiccup laughed and hugged the man back with all the might his thin arms could possess.

"Yeh're alive," Gobber crowed happily, "Yeh're alright, lad!"

The blacksmith lifted him up and swung him in a circle. Relieved laughter sounded in the enormous living space. Hiccup grinned when he once again stood on solid ground.

"Why are we here?" He asked. "Where's dad? Is he here too?"

"No, lad," Gobber shook his head, "Yer father won't be seeing yah here fer some time until we're sure that yer safe. Stoick's investigating who attacked yah this mornin' so yeh better be living here than in the manor until were sure tah coast is clear."

Hiccup frowned. He only known with his father for a few days yet he already felt disappointed. He wanted to talk to his dad, to ask advice, and have a good sparring session to sweat out his frustrations.

But that could only be done if he was in the manor. This new living space felt completely alien to him.

Looking around, he studied his surroundings. The room was not a simple hotel accommodation. It mirrored a two-story loft complete with a living room, dining area, and well-equipped kitchen. The stairs leading the second floor probably led to bedrooms and other needed facilities. He took a short walk towards the balcony and was surprised to see an infinity pool complete with lounging chairs. The space might be cramped compared to the manor yet it emanated the same aura of overt luxury.

"This will be yer temporary home, lad," Gobber said as he steered the boy towards the dining area, "Come. Let us eat our fill! I've ordered some sustenance for tah evening."

True to his word, the entire table had been laden with various dishes. The blacksmith gestured the guards to dine with them. They ate silently, fatigue making them too tired to do anything else. Mulch gave Hiccup a smart phone after dinner ended. The boy almost dropped it when he saw his father's face. He pressed a finger on the screen to play the video.

"Hello, son," Stoick said as the recorded video began to play, "I hope you are safe. You are to stay in this place until we can uncover the culprit who instigated the attack. Bucket and Mulch will continue your training. I have instructed them to teach you martial arts and, if it becomes possible, to teach you how spar with a knife and how to fire a gun."

Hiccup's eyes widened at this declaration.

"Your life is in danger," his father gravely continued, "We cannot let you be unarmed when your guards cannot be with you at all times. There are unknown assassins aiming to end your life. Mrs. Ack will visit you on Tuesdays and Thursdays to continue your etiquette and history lessons. And I will only contact you through this phone until I am assured that everything will be alright."

Stoick let out a sigh and he looked older and so tired.

"I wish I could be there with you, son, but I cannot lead them to you. Whoever planned this would be watching my every move. Be safe. Be armed. Learn all that you can."

The video ended. Hiccup could only stare at the mobile's darkened screen. A part of him yearned to have his dad here with him yet he understood why they needed to stay apart.

But he wanted that sense of comfort. He wanted his father's presence.

And most of all, he began to realize that he also missed his mother.

To be continued...

 **A/N:** **Sorry for the delay. I've been having major writers block and had to take a short break so I can have fresh ideas for this story. I really don't want to post a half-assed chapter where it's all fluff and nothing really happens plot wise. I really admire authors who can churn out fast chapters because I certainly couldn't do it. I've been asked to do a new story and I even have some ideas for other fics but this one is already eating my time. So I'll focus on How to Train a Prince for now. Maybe if I have a beta reader it would help me write faster. The problem is that I don't know how that system works.**

 **Fun fact: Berk Institute of Higher Learning is inspired by a real school named Institut Le Rosey. It is the most expensive boarding school in the world.**

 **Astrid has a reason why she's avoiding Hiccup for now so don't hate her behaviour. I really don't want to make characters act in a certain way without a proper reason. I feel the same way for Valka. I haven't really expounded on her character yet so I understand when people don't like her but she has a reason for everything she has done and you'll find out why soon.**

 **I like characters that are flawed and have weaknesses. It makes them more human, more fleshed out, rather than empty vessels without value.**

 **Thank you for your reviews because it really helps to keep me motivated especially during tough times when I'm experiencing writer's block. I keep forging on even when real life is tough.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Darkness filled the skyline and with it came grey ominous clouds. Thin streaks of lightning flashed over the distance followed up by the deep, rumbling drum roll of thunder. Raindrops pelted against the tinted glass panels, trickling, falling forty stories below. Looking down, Hiccup numbly observed the twinkling of the city lights, the speeding of cars through water slicked streets, and the colorful umbrellas popping open to shelter their owners from being drenched to the bone.

The weather perfectly mimicked his somber mood. He felt strangely detached; physically present yet not mentally there at the same time. Splaying his hand against the chilled glass, Hiccup closed his eyes and tried to bury the warring turmoil of his emotions. Once again he had been displaced, removed from a place he begun to refer as home. This whole enormous living space may represent the height of extravagance and grandeur but it lacked warmth.

It wasn't home.

He missed them, his parents. He found himself longing for the soft touch of his mother's hand against his cheek, wanting to hear his father's boisterous laughter. Sometimes the mere presence of his uncle could not rein in the grips of homesickness that threatened to plunge him into depression. He ached to touch the cool, smooth scales of Toothless' flank. To feel the wind play with the strands of his hair during midnight flights that could have chased the shadows away from his mind. He yearned for familiar surroundings, for any assurance of safety.

Most of all, he longed for steadfast support. Deciding to walk back to his bed, Hiccup bent down and picked up the mobile phone that had been haphazardly thrown on top of upturned beddings. Fast fingers dialed a number he knew so well. He released a deep breath as he listened to the ringing tone, waiting for someone to answer the call on the other end. The ends of his mouth curved up when he heard a feminine voice ask for his identity.

"Mom..."

"Hiccup?"

"Yeah, mom, it's me..."

He spoke softly as he sat on the edge of his bed, running his shaking fingers through his thick hair. Closing his eyes, Hiccup bit his lower lip to try to halt the whimper that threatened to tumble out his lips. But he couldn't stop it, as if the dam had just been released.

"I miss you," his voice sounded rough with emotion, "I miss you so much."

No matter how much he resented the fact that his mother lied to him, in the end he still yearned for the familiar touch that used to chase away his fears. Her mere presence represented safety and comfort, a pillar of strength in times of need. That they currently lived a thousand miles apart gutted him to the core.

"Is everything okay? Are you adjusting well?" Valka immediately asked. Her worry surged, tingeing the gentle cadence of her voice. "It will be colder in Berk during this season, son. You should wear thicker clothes. Always try to keep yourself warm so that you would avoid being infected with a cold or something worse."

Hiccup laughed a little. He used the edge of his sleeves to wipe the moisture away building up in his eyes. Even now she would berate him. Too concerned for little inconsequential things, saying phrases that only concerned mothers would to say.

"I'm fine," he said, "a lot has happened and I just... I miss you. Damn it. I miss you, mom. I just wanted to hear your voice and..."

For a moment he debated with himself, weighing the pros and cons of telling her the truth about the attack he had escaped from. Yet he couldn't stomach the presence of another untruth, knowing that lies could drive another wedge in their fracturing relationship. Taking in a deep breath, he took the plunge and told her the root of his fears.

"I almost died today..."

Details about the attack quickly tumbled out of his lips. He told her how he barely escaped death. How he felt the heavy thud of bullets against the Kevlar ballistic fabric that shielded his body from fatal harm. He heard her sharp intake of breath and detected the rising tension in her voice.

"How could your father allow this to happen?"

"Don't blame dad like that!" Hiccup snapped, fingers tightly gripping the frame of his mobile phone. "It wasn't his fault!"

"How can you say that?" Valka hissed back in anger. "It's your father's responsibility to keep you safe!"

"And he did, mom. I'm still alive..."

And he lived because his father gave him guards who vowed to protect him from all harm. He refused to think about what could have happened if Bucket and Mulch did not act competent enough. Because he couldn't linger on the 'what ifs' or the possibilities, he couldn't linger on events that did not happen.

"No one could have predicted the attack," Hiccup insisted, "Whoever sent the assassins would be the only ones to be blamed. I can't hold dad accountable for something completely out of his control."

"But that doesn't mean that it would not happen again," Valka soundly countered his argument. "You don't have to stay there. You can come home to the Sanctuary and we can find you a new school."

It would be so easy to leave Berk, to flee and leave everything else behind.

"But what would that benefit me?" Hiccup asked as he stood up and paced around the room in agitation. Deep down he knew the dire consequences if he chose that certain course of action. "I've already switched schools. To do that twice within one year would be disastrous for my record. One of my teachers already thinks I'm a trouble maker just because I've transferred so many times."

"But if staying in Berk would threaten your life then I'd rather that you would stay with me in the Sanctuary with our dragons. We will find a way to send you to college without relying on your father's money."

"But we can't, mom. I can't give up this opportunity."

Reality reminded him that his family always struggled financially. Thousands of dollars in college fees would be a burden too big to bear.

"But we can still find a way," Valka insisted. "I'll do everything I can because I only want the best for you. I have sacrificed a lot for your well being in the past, son, and I'm prepared to do so again if needed. You know this. All the sacrifices I have done in my life, I did because I love you..."

"Really?" Hiccup lashed out, "because lying to your own son really doesn't show that."

Resentment corrupted his trust in her. He couldn't stop his tongue, couldn't halt the bitterness from bleeding into his words. Hiccup didn't expect the ugly turn of their conversation, but he couldn't stomach the way his mother acted as if she had never done anything wrong in her life. His earlier yearning for comfort immediately transformed into antipathy.

He heard his mother's breath hitch in her throat. "I… I don't understand what you are talking about..."

Her denial sparked deep seated annoyance. Hiccup gritted his teeth and let his fury and frustration to sharpen into cutting words.

"I know everything. I know you that you had lied about my father! Dad didn't leave us just as you have always told me. You told me a lie, mom. You made me believe in a false story my whole life. How could you do that?"

He heard her gasp again. "Hiccup... I... Please let me explain..."

"I believed every word you said because I trusted you," he shook his head and cut her off, "So don't talk to me as if you're not culpable for your own sins."

This time Hiccup heard his mother take in deep sobbing breaths. So familiar was he with that sound that he knew that tears were trickling down her cheeks. Yet Hiccup forged on, not wanting to hear her excuses.

"I demanded to know why Dad abandoned us and did you know what he said? He didn't know about me, mom. He never knew about my existence."

"Hiccup, please. I know what I did was wrong," she cried out in desperation, "I know lying to you was unforgivable. But once I had started the lie it was easier to keep it going rather than to tell you the truth. I'm so sorry, son. Please, please forgive me. I just wanted to protect you."

"Protect me from what?" Hiccup demanded. "And what is the truth? Because right now I don't know if I'll ever believe anything that comes from your mouth. I don't know if you're still lying to me or if you're being honest."

"Do you hate me?"

His mother's voice sounded so small, so defeated, that it startled him out of his rage.

"No, I don't," He admitted.

Because no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much he grieved, he knew could never hate her. Hiccup collapsed on the bed. He closed his eyes, feeling his wrath start to drain out of his being.

"I'm tired," he continued on, "I'm angry and disappointed. But that does not change the fact that I will always love you. You're my mother. Even if you lied to me I've always known that you love me. But I want to know the reason why you chose to make me believe that dad abandoned us and what prompted you to do such a shitty thing."

"When I come back to Berk I vow to tell you everything," Valka promised through the haze of her own tears, "All that you need to know I will tell you. I will come clean but I need to face you and your father together. But I want you to remember that everything I have done, I did because I love you. And I hope that one day you would find the heart to be able to forgive me."

Hiccup ended the call without saying goodbye. He burrowed his face against his pillow and screamed, releasing left over heartache and rage. Then the moment passed. It felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Fatigue overcame him. His eyelashes fluttered close, his mind resting into a deep slumber.

-o-0-o-

In another place hidden within uptown Berkian metropolis stood an eating establishment only known to a privileged few. Most of the population would have no prior knowledge about this place. On the outside one may see a lone red mahogany door set against a wall slated entirely in black marble. There were no brightly lit windows that could allow outsiders to peer inside. No fancy lettering to advertise its main function. Passersby may walk up to it only to find it tightly locked. A single locked door that led to the unknown.

And it would stay locked unless one possessed a certain key to access it.

At precisely eight thirty in the same evening a limousine parked in front of the inconspicuous doorway. Its occupants set foot on the concrete sidewalk, confidently approaching the locked door with a single minded determination. Both father and son would create a stir if any of the masses saw them in the flesh, all suited up and dressed in their best clothes. Their faces were too known to the public, too noticeable, and too easily recognized.

But the beauty of the door and its unremarkable exterior would keep any interested parties uninformed. With a quick slide of a key card into a cleverly hidden slot, the door opened and pair slid inside.

"Welcome, your highness," the Maître d' bowed low the moment Spitelout Jorgenson and his son walked through the threshold. "We've been expecting you, sir. Your table has been prepared as requested."

"Excellent," the older Jorgenson said as he snapped his fingers, "lead us inside."

One of the attendants gracefully curtsied and proceeded to usher them through the restaurant's baroque inspired interior. A grand crystal chandelier hung in the middle of a domed ceiling painted tastefully with portraits of Valkeries fighting and waging battles. The walls around them had been designed with intricately carved gilded moldings and painted depictions of Viking lore. There were only a few tables inside. All had been spaced far apart, separated by bright green foliage for privacy.

Spitelout quietly scanned the vicinity with narrowed eyes, scrutinizing the sparse crowd. He listened intently and heard the clinking cutlery and the murmuring of gossiping lips. He glimpsed the senior Thorstons and the Ingermen matriarch. In another table he could see a visiting Duke from a far off country. Spitelout nodded his head every time someone stood up and curtsied before him. It felt good to know that the right crowd still respected status and showed respect.

And with his son as the only logical shoe in for the prestigious title of heir to the throne, status meant everything.

Only the elite wined and dined in this establishment. The _Sigrún_ would not be deigned to service celebrities and social climbers. One cannot be given access unless he or she belongs to the crème de la crème of high society. Money and power spoke here and, most of all, the right lineage and breeding.

"Who are we going to meet here, Sir?" Snotlout asked as politely as the settled in their seats in the far corner of the room.

"You'll see," Spitelout smirked. "I'm sure you'll appreciate our guests this evening."

A few minutes passed by before two people, both blonde and blue eyed, approached their table. Snotlout's eyes widened in surprise and his mouth grinned in absolute glee.

"Astrid!" Snotlout's exclaimed. The volume of his voice rose as he stood up in excitement.

"Hush," Spitelout narrowed his eyes at his son's .

The boy flinched and nervously smirked instead, earning approval from his parent. The older Jorgenson did not move from his seat, coolly gazing on as the man and the teenage girl curtsied before him. He nodded his head once, accepting their show of respect, allowing the pair sit down in their respective seats.

Lady Astrid Hofferson looked radiant in an aquamarine silk evening dress. Her golden hair had been tastefully twisted into an up do of braids and curls. A thin string of diamonds with an aquamarine teardrop pendant glittered around her neck while teardrop earrings made out of the same precious stone dangled from her ears.

Yet even if Astrid had been dressed to the nines her eyes looked vulnerable and uncomfortable. Snotlout did not notice such small details.

"I'm glad you're here, princess," Snotlout grinned. He took her fingers, kissing the back of her hand as deemed proper and made the girl flinch in return.

"Call her by her proper title, son," Spiteloud said in a mocking tone," It will be unseemly for a Lady to be called a Princess when she is not one."

Astrid forced herself to relax and released a short exhale of breath.

"Thank you for your kindness Your Grace," she spoke the obviously rehearsed words, "It is a pleasure to be here with you and your son this evening."

Spitelout nodded amicably, accepting the respectful greeting. He turned towards the man sitting by Astrid's side. "Your daughter has grown, Finn."

Lord Finn, Earl and current Patriarch of House Hofferson clenched his jaw when the Jorgenson Duke avoided calling him by his given title. Yet he breathed through his nose and humored his host.

"She's my niece, Your Grace." Finn replied cordially, "The only daughter of my departed older brother and his wife."

"No matter," Spitelout waved his hand as if he found the information trivial and unimportant, "She still belongs to a prestigious House and that is all I need to know."

Their conversation had been disrupted as a sommelier approached their table and began pouring champagne into their flutes. Another server slid plates filled with Hors d'oeuvres of Oysters à la Russe and smoked salmon canapés. Every person who stepped inside the _Sigr_ _ῡ_ _n_ would expect that the courses for the evening had already been picked beforehand. No one expected to see menus or the prices. Everyone who dined here were expected to afford the whole eight course affair.

As soon as the plates of appetizers had been cleared, steaming bowls of creamy lobster bisque and grilled panchetta had been placed upon of their plates. Astrid barely sipped her first taste of soup when her uncle spoke to the Duke. She listened intently when her uncle raised an important question.

"Why have you requested our presence?" Lord Finn inquired.

The Hoffersons received a call from the Duke of House Jorgenson the two night before, quite out of the blue and completely unexpected. The half-brother of the king-to-be had a reputation of being hard man with great ambitions. Lord Spitelout, Duke of House Jorgenson would not be one to be trifled with. That he had invited them to dine with him and his son would be an immediate cause for concern.

"My son has spoken highly of your niece and praised her accomplishments," Spitelout said as if his words explained everything. "Is it true that she has garnered Head Girl this year?"

"Yes," Finn affirmed the information as Astrid nodded her head. "She has been chosen for the position and has been serious in accomplishing her tasks and duties."

"Is accomplishing her duties the reason why she almost punched my son to protect a new blood in school last week?"

Spitelout's voice sounded hard and biting. Astrid froze still as her uncle looked at her in puzzlement. With shaking fingers, she placed her soup spoon down and bit her lip. Calming herself, she spoke once again.

"Your son had punched a new student, sir. It was part of my duty as Head Girl to keep the peace..."

"By punching a wall beside my sons's head?" Spitelout smirked when the girls flinched, "Yes, I've been filled in by your teachers about the incident but it is still improper for a lady of your standing to threaten the next heir to the throne."

Astrid gripped the skirt of her dress tightly and forced herself to nod her head. "You are right Your Grace." The words felt like ash in her mouth. "I will keep it in mind not to repeat it again."

The Duke grinned. He could see why his son favored the girl; beautiful and intelligent, a most intoxicating combination.

"It will only be a matter of time before my son will be proclaimed as next in line to the throne," Spitelout continued on, "Once my brother is crowned king, Snotlout will ascend to his role as heir and he will need someone by his side..."

Astrid could feel her heart beat pound faster as the Duke's gaze turned towards her uncle. She bit her lip until it hurt and squeezed her eyes shut when the exact reason for the dinner had been revealed at last.

"I propose to merge our families through a mutually beneficial agreement."

Silence followed the proclamation. Astrid opened her eyes and pursed her lips into a thin line. Her shaking hands clenched into tight fists until the tips of her fingernails bit painfully into her flesh. Lord Finn Hofferson narrowed his eyes and frowned at his host. Snotlout furrowed his brow in confusion.

"I don't get it," Snotlout said.

Astrid snarled at him, "Your father just proposed us to marry, you idiot!"

She gritted her teeth and stood on her feet, gathering her skirts as she fled.

-o-0-o-

Heads turned as Astrid ran through the maze of tables, chairs, and greenery. She didn't care if she almost toppled the waiter. She didn't care if matriarchs of the peerage sneered at her scandalous behaviour. All she longed for was to leave, to be far away from Snotlout Jorgenson and his father.

She rushed out the main door once the guard let her through. The evening air blew against her face, tousling her hair and cooling her skin. Astrid collapsed to her knees on the concrete sidewalk. She didn't care if her silk dress had been ruined and rumpled. She hugged her shoulders and cried bitter tears that ruined her prettily made up face.

Astrid had been afraid of this. She had feared it the moment the elder Jorgenson sent his invitation for a dinner for four at _Sigr_ _ῡ_ _n_. Fathers who belong to their class and stature did not invite daughters of their acquaintances to be in attendance just for simple chit chat. In their world, that gesture meant something big.

What he asked of her would be something that she could not stomach to do...

"I can't..."she gasped as tears of frustration ran down her cheeks, "They can't make me do this..."

She would be deemed an idiot to refuse the hand of a boy who might grow up to be the future King of Berk. Yet she despised him and his ilk, despised the way Snotlout boasted the importance of his birthright as if respect could be demanded instead of earned. Despised the way he acted as if she belonged to him even if he never reached out to know her. He treated her like a trinket to be admired and coveted rather than a well-rounded human being with her own wants and ambitions.

Astrid shivered. She tried to imagine a life with Snotlout as her husband but all she could see in her mind's eye would be a pair of disappointed green eyes.

Those green eyes reminded her of Hiccup; the boy who simply wanted to know her and befriend her. The only kid in her class who had the guts to tell Snotlout to leave her alone when no one else would...

Hiccup the boy whom she had tried to avoid in an act to protect him from the consequences of Snotlout's attentions.

Because Astrid knew what the Jorgenson family were capable of. She knew what they would attempt to do if Hiccup Cloud, a complete nobody, tried to be close to her.

No, she didn't want this.

A hand landed on her shoulder. Astrid reacted on instinct and almost punched the person who invaded her space, only halting her attack when the intruder spoke in a familiar voice.

"It's me, buttercup," Uncle Finn said, "It's just me..."

Her hand grabbed the lapel of his three-piece suit instead. "Uncle, please, you can't make me marry him."

"I know," He helped her up and brushed away the tears from her eyes. "I just told His Grace that it would be prudent for me not to force my niece to enter into any sort of permanent agreement without her consent. It got Lord Spitelout all snarly for a while and his kid pouted in disappointment."

"So I'm not going to marry him?" Astrid's voice sounded unsure.

"Buttercup," he tweaked her nose just to make her smile. "You are an independent young lady and we are living in modern times. I'm not going to force you to marry Lord Snotlout Jorgenson just because his father told me to do so. And because I know you are handy with a sharp axe. Lord Snotlout will be safer that way."

Astrid snorted but gave a tentative smile. She hoped that the rejection would be enough.

But why does she feel as if her troubles had just started?

-o-0-o-

Hiccup woke up even before the sun rose up in the horizon, still feeling a bit groggy yet filled with a renewed sense of determination. The direction of his future might be a bit muddled at this point in his life. Yet he knew at the same time that he couldn't just quit and leave everything behind. Six months, his father promised. If he can stay here for six months he can get whatever he wanted; funding for a formal university course in Dragon Training would be the topmost priority. He did not want to break his word.

Hauling himself off his bed, Hiccup sauntered out of his room and walked downstairs towards the living area. He noticed that all the furniture had already been pushed aside, clearing an ample amount of space. His uncle was already there standing beside his guards and a visitor whom he instantly recognized.

"Oh thank the heavens," Mrs. Ack exclaimed and embraced him with much gusto. "I'm glad you're alive!"

The chamberlain was surprisingly strong and her arms felt like iron clamps around his torso.

"He won't be if yah won't stop squeezing his lungs, lass" Gobber snarked.

Hiccup could only groan in response.

"Och!" she blushed, embarrassed, and immediately let him go. "Sorry about that, lad. I'm just a bit too happy to see you right now. How are you? You've been through something horrific."

"I'm fine. I had better days but I'm not dying yet," Hiccup tried to smile but he sighed instead, "I'm glad you're here Mrs. Ack."

"Well I'm here to make sure you are being taken care of," she then hinted at a basket filled with food, "and I want to make sure that you are eating well."

"How is my dad?"

"Stubborn and pigheaded as always but that's a given if one has Haddock blood in their veins. He's busy, lad. Stoick can't see you right now and it might take a while before you can meet your father face to face. His Majesty wants to make sure that everything is safe before he can let you go back to the manor."

"Aye," Gobber agreed. "A bit sad but it's a needed precaution."

Mulch gave a respectful salute, breaking into the conversation. "Are yah ready fer yer training, yer royal highness?"

"Yes," Hiccup responded firmly, knowing all too well that he needed this.

"Then we'll start with a warm up of callisthenics, sir," Bucket nodded his head.

The palace guards readily taught him what they knew, lecturing the son of their king on the intricate ins and outs of basic self-defense. For three hours they showed him how to move fluidly to deflect anyone from physically harming him, demonstrating how to use wits in hitting back rather than just using pure strength and brawns. Gobber once again sat at the sidelines, regaling them with his observations to help improve the boy's performance while Mrs. Ack prepared their breakfast.

Hiccup poured himself fully into the basic defensive and offensive movements. He reveled in the way it made his muscles warm up with every stretch and pull. Bucket and Mulch taught him how to be hyper aware of his weaknesses, pointing out how to use his prosthetic foot to his advantage, and mixing up a variety of combat styles that would better fit their student.

Martial Arts gave Hiccup something to focus on, an outlet to pour out all of his frustrations.

He never thought he needed this type of harrowing physical exertion before. It fit him better than the straightforward boxing style his father had taught him. What Hiccup learned broke down every misconception he had known about himself. He used to think of himself too thin, too frail for any type of combat. For what could a nerd with reedy built accomplish? Because of his limited thinking, his hobbies lent more of the artistic and intellectual pursuits rather than the athletic. This new type of training taught him that he could do more and be more even with the slightness of his body's build.

Bucket clapped enthusiastically when their student finally avoided Mulch's determined kick against his prosthesis. Hiccup pivoted on his good foot and clumsily blocked another incoming punch from his side; just as he had been coached to do.

"Good job sir," Mulch said as he clasped his hands together, and bowed down low, finally ending the spar.

"Thanks," Hiccup smiled and mimicked the action. He wiped away the sweat from his brow and released a breath of satisfaction. His movements may be still unrefined but he could polish it with unrelenting practice. The ache of his body felt painful yet relieved him at the same time.

"Yer father wants yah to have this," Gobber approached him and handed over a sleek black box.

Flipping the cover revealed a charcoal grey switchblade. Hiccup held it up, feeling the cold metal against his skin. It weighed lighter than he expected and fit comfortably in the palm of his hand. The pad of his thumb applied a bit of pressure on the lever protruding at the side of the handle, making the sharp blade spring up.

"Keep it with yah at all times, lad," His uncle's blue eyes showed a type of seriousness that Hiccup had never seen before, "It's fully made of titanium, from the blade to the smallest screws in the handle."

"Aren't knives illegal to carry?" Hiccup said in concern, uncomfortable with the notion of breaking the law.

"In some parts of the world, yes. But in Berk, eh, not so much..." Gobber shrugged, "Part of the perks of having a king as yer father is that yah have express permission tah carry this with yah at all times. Not only is yer knife sharp, it's also undetectable under a metal detector. Yer guards will teach yah how to use it wisely."

Hiccup re-concealed the blade and pocketed the knife. He should have been frightened about the fact that he needed to covertly carry a knife on his person at all times. Yet he understood the need for such extreme caution. His mind quickly calculated what kind of improvements he could add to the blade. Twitchy fingers craved to grind the metal, to sharpen it further and polish it until it gleamed. Maybe he could add Monstrous Nightmare gel to add a certain spark of fire. The possibilities seemed endless.

"Have they arrested anyone?" Hiccup's pulse quickened with the thought that his attackers still roamed free on the streets of Berk.

Gobber shook his head negatively, "Yer father and I have several suspects in mind, lad, but we don't have any proof of it." The CCTV footage proved meaningless. Both motorcycles looked nondescript and lacked any plate numbers. "All we have are suspicions. It could be anyone, Hiccup. We really don't know who really tried tah kill yah."

"The media thinks it's a terrorist attack..."

"It is fer the best. It will be better if they think it's not connected to yah. It will keep yah safer. Yer father decided not tah let the police investigate. The car yah used is registered under your Stoick's name. We can't let the police delve into anything without exposing yer existence."

And that was the crux of the matter. Police investigation could lead to journalists getting a whiff of the true cause of the attack. Hiccup pursed his lips into a thin line. Maybe his mother was right. Maybe he would be safer away from Berk.

"Yer father is doing everything to keep yah safe, lad." His uncle assured him.

Hiccup could only sigh, "I can only hope that you're right."

To be continued...

 **A/N: Finally! I had a bit of a hurdle with this chapter. Late, but better late than never. I haven't abandoned this story. I'm struggling with fast updates. Couple that with the fact that I got sick for several days. So I'm not promising a posting schedule. Thank you for all your reviews. They are humbling and uplifting.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Four days passed by since the last time he saw his son.

Four whole days he had spent wisely in his pursuit to uncover the truth.

Stoick had covertly recruited a group of crime scene investigators. Top rated professionals known to be highly efficient in their perspective fields. Each individual were deemed trustworthy, coming out clean from critical background checks. Even so, the king-to-be made sure to prepare iron clad non-disclosure agreements. Classified information falling into the wrong hands could result into a deadly situation.

He had been present with the investigative team when they first cased the crime scene, standing nearby to serve as an additional witness as the CSI searched for crucial evidence. They examined every nook and cranny of the assaulted vehicle, not letting anything be left unturned. He'd seen the sharp broken shards of glass littered on the carpeted flooring along with the bent bullet casings that almost pierced through his son's body. All the evidence were bagged within sanitary a zip-locks, soon to be delivered to a lab for further testing.

Yet nothing came up that could positively indicate the assassins' identity.

Every piece of evidence they had uncovered only led to a dead end.

Frustration gnawed on Stoick's nerves, making him hate the fact that he could not be assured his son's safety. The attack only led him to the conclusion that someone had been monitoring his home, his private abode. The distinct possibility that Raven's Point Manor might have been infiltrated, that his every movement had been observed by an unknown entity, sickened him to the core. It felt as if an invisible noose was tightening around his neck, effectively trapping him into a situation that he could not escape.

Whoever staged the attack would surely look for any clue that their target had been eliminated. So Stoick prepared for possible contingencies, opting to abandon the manor for now. He decided to live within the perimeters of main palace estate, further tightening security protocols, and surrounding himself with only those who were deemed as trustworthy. The Grand Duchess and Mrs. Ack accompanied him with the chamberlain helping out by covertly passing messages to his son.

The only balm to his fears would be the fact that no other assassination attempt had cropped up since the day his son had been moved to Thorston Towers. Hiccup had attended school as expected. No other incidents had occurred since then.

That gave Stoick a sliver of hope.

Perhaps those bastards were not even aware of his son's identity.

Perhaps the attack was meant for him, the soon to be king.

He abhorred not knowing who could have executed such a cold blooded move. For the House of Haddock had gained many adversaries over the decades gone past; dangerous foes who would not think twice to wrestle the throne from his grasp. Assassinating him or his chosen heir during the proper period of mourning, just months before the formal coronation would be a smart tactical move. It would create chaos. It would derail the kingdom. It would make it easy for anyone to seize power and install a new form of government.

Stoick knew he had to be careful, plotting every consecutive action with surgical precision. His and Hiccup's life may hang in the balance. There was no room for mistakes.

But even with all his plans he could do little else but wait.

He spent most of his days enacting the daily duties of an acting monarch to the kingdom. Even if he had not yet been formally crowned, Stoick already wielded power. He currently sat in front of his mahogany desk, signing his scripted name with practiced ease on various state related documents. These statutes and laws could affect the stability of his kingdom. He made sure to study each one with a critical eye, deciding with proper discrimination on what should be improved upon and what should be scrapped and binned. The rustling of papers and the crackling of burning wood from the fireplace were the only sounds to be heard within the room until the double doors swung open.

"Your Majesty," Silent Sven bowed low, "The Royal Council requests to be allowed to be in your presence. The council wants to discuss a matter of utmost importance."

Stoick closed his eyes and released a hefty sigh. Briefly, he massaged the bridge of his nose then settled his pen and papers towards the edge of his desk.

"Let them inside then leave us be."

"As you wish, sir," The advisor bowed once again and stepped aside.

Four men strode into the room. All had worn morning suits in somber colors of black and grey; a quiet sign of respect to their recently departed head of state. The king-to-be nodded his head, regarding his current audience with a sense of civility. He knew each of his visitors quite well. They were patriarchs and representatives of their respective noble houses. Some he acknowledged as good friends. Some he diplomatically tolerated in order to keep good public relations with.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," Lord Magmar's reedy voice broke the silence. The man's back stooped as he leaned against a wooden cane for support. Thin silvery hair gleamed in the firelight while wrinkled spotted skin betrayed his age. As the Duke of Blackheart and the oldest patriarch of the noble House of Thorston, Lord Magmar commanded preeminent respect from his peers.

Beside the old man stood Lord Fishguts, the Marquesse of House Ingermen. Even if he was nearing middle age, the blonde man was still an imposing figure even though a bit stout around the waist. Thick oval glasses were perched upon the bridge of his bulbous nose and his moustache twitched with mirth as he paid proper respect to his liege.

"Your Majesty..." said the smooth tones of Lord Finn, the Earl and current head of House Hofferson. The man smiled kindly, bowing fully at the waist towards the king-to-be. As the youngest of the four, he looked handsome and quite tall. His blond hair was swept to the side with a few strands covering his blue eyes.

Stoick nodded back in acknowledgement before turning his attention to the last member of his royal council. His half-brother, Lord Spitelout Jorgenson smirked and raised one brow as if presenting a challenge.

These men represented the foundation of Berk, the main families who had built the cornerstones of their society. Stoick knew he could trust his peers to help him lead the kingdom with wisdom and humility. Only matter of urgency must have prodded them to meet with him at such an early hour in the morning.

Yet he could not shake the feeling there may be an enemy in his midst. A hidden foe that might be closer and more dangerous than he initially thought.

But without damning evidence, he had nothing to hold on to but empty speculations. These men were part of the peerage, holding high positions in the House of Lords. Accusing anyone without proper proof may prove disastrous.

"What are your concerns?" Stoick said to his audience. "I have limited time, gentlemen. Do not waste it."

"Your brother has raised an important issue that might affect the future of our kingdom," Lord Magmar spoke once again, "You have not yet declared an heir, your majesty."

Stoick bit his cheek and frowned at his visitor, "I am still mourning my father's demise. Surely, the issue of the crown prince can be discussed at another time?"

"It might prove to be a stumbling block for you, sir," Lord Fishguts added in sincere concern, "You cannot be crowned without an heir and we cannot delay your coronation. I know you already are handling the duties of a monarch but Berk needs stability. Only a crown prince can provide that."

"Which leads us to the point of this meeting," Spitelout suddenly interjected. The duke smirked at the sudden spark of annoyance behind his older brother's eyes. "Gentlemen, I already have a son that can be declared as heir apparent to the crown. The council only needs to collectively agree that Snotlout is fit for the role."

The men looked at one another, whispering their opinions in hushed tones.

Stoick narrowed his eyes, "That remains to be seen!"

"And it is not for you to decide!" Spitelout snapped back, baring his teeth with unrestrained fury. "I do not understand why you are so adamant in rejecting my son. Snotlout is a leading example of what a true Berkian could be. He has brawns and strength in spades and the right lineage running through his veins. It is his birthright. It is time for you to declare him as next-in-line to the throne!"

Brimming tension heightened into a fever pitch between the two brothers. Lord Fishguts twiddled his fingers and shifted nervously in his seat while the elder Thorston patriarch eyed the king-to-be with interest. Annoyance sparked in Spitelout's grey eyes and Stoick glared back, feeling quite frustrated at the insolent conduct of his younger sibling.

He knew that Spitelout wanted to force his hand, bringing the whole royal council to pressure him to make a snap decision. But he would not be cowed. He would not bend over to appease his sibling. The Jorgenson Duke had one goal and it was not something that Stoick agreed on.

Yes, his nephew had the right aspects of a proper Berkian, but Stoick knew the inherent danger of installing Snotlout as heir apparent. The boy could become a tool easily manipulated by an over ambitious father.

"Calm down, gentlemen," Lord Finn Hofferson raised both hands in a placating manner, "This is not the time to quarrel with one another. There are still other options to consider."

"Options?" Lord Spitelout snarled. "My son is the only option!"

"Unless if the King is already looking for a Queen," the Thorston patriarch grinned crookedly, "Is that it, your majesty? Is that the reason why you are unwilling to declare your nephew as heir? Are you looking for a pretty little thing to carry your seed?"

A look of surprise was shared between Finn and Fishguts. Spitelout narrowed his eyes in suspicion, awaiting his brother's reaction to either affirm or disregard this damning statement. Stoick bit the side of his cheek to stop himself from blurting out the whole truth.

For he didn't need a queen to give him a child when he already had one; a seventeen year old lanky teen who may not yet fit the image of a proper Haddock, but could be molded into a proper heir with the right training. Stoick could see the potential in his son and felt confident that Hiccup would choose to stay in the end. The boy would choose claim his birthright and decide to rule by his side as Crown Prince of Berk. He was sure of it. For what man could resist the chance to wield power when it was already laid upon his feet?

It was his son's fate, his destiny.

Yet Stoick could not declare his plans to his council. Not when his enemy still remained a mystery he could not decipher. Not when the danger of losing his son still loomed in the horizon. He will bide his time, only to reveal the truth at the right moment.

Spitelout glared at Lord Magmar, "Why does my brother need to look for a wife when cementing my son's status as heir can instantly bring peace and stability to our Kingdom?"

"But a new queen can be beneficial for boosting the morale of the people," Lord Fishguts piped in. The Marquess winced when the Jorgenson Duke murderously glared at him.

"I agree," Lord Finn Hofferson nodded in approval. "A royal wedding could bring extra revenue to the economy. It could generate an increase in tourism and could attract good income. We can make it into something the kingdom could look forward to. Right now our people are mourning for the loss of our former head-of-state, but if we time the wedding in conjunction to the coronation..."

"Then our people can find a reason to rejoice and the monarchy can enjoy a more stable reign," Lord Magmar grinned wickedly, nodding his head. "The Thorston family can easily provide an array of women with noble blood who could carry the next Haddock heir."

Spitelout glared at the old man, knowing all too well what would proceed from the Thorston patriarch's machinations. Only a few of the noble houses could offer eligible women in the proper marriageable age. Most of women in their society were already married, too old, or too young to be considered for the role. The Thorston clan would surely grab this opportunity to elevate their status.

"We are not here to discuss the need for a queen," The Jorgenson Duke spitefully countered, "We have too short a time to find a woman qualified enough for the role. And we cannot be assured that the she would be able to produce an heir."

"Well, one of my lovely daughters could be an option for queen," Magmar sneered.

"No," Spitelout growled, "My son will be the heir!"

"Enough!"

Every person in the room turned towards their king-to-be.

"I am in no mood to discuss such matters," Stoick scowled at Lord Magmar and his half-brother, "I will consider your suggestions, but all that I can promise is that I have a plan that will solve the need for an heir. For now, leave me be."

He waved his hand towards the door. The men instantly knew they were being dismissed.

"Even so…" Lord Magmar smirked in triumph. "I will trust that you will make the right choice, your majesty."

Lord Fishguts nodded his head in acquiescence. "We will await your decision."

Spitelout pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes in derision. "I will not let you steal Snotlout's birthright," he threatened in a low voice, "I will be victorious in the end."

The men walked out of the room, obeying their monarch's command. Stoick sighed in relief when the Jorgenson Duke slammed the door shut with a loud bang. Then he turned his head to the side curious to see that Finn Hofferson had stayed behind.

"They are an ambitious lot," Lord Finn mused with a small smile, "I'm sure your brother would be raging at the servants today and the old cranky coot would be grooming his daughters and granddaughters as we speak. You are going to get into a lot of trouble the moment the news that you are looking for a wife leaks out."

Stoick snorted. He knew that the rumour would spread like wildfire, even if there was no sliver of truth in it. Eligible ladies would surely try to woo his attention from this day on, stalking him in a bid to win his affection. But perhaps this situation could serve a higher purpose.

Yes, maybe he could use it to his advantage.

"Why did you stay behind?" Stoick asked, a bit wary of the man even if he had known him for years. He still did not know who he could trust and who he should suspect. Friends could turn out to be enemies in disguise.

"Can't I just show support to my future king?" Finn grinned cheekily before his expression turned serious, "You were my older brother's best friend and our families have enjoyed a close relationship for a hundred years. I'm here to warn you about Spitelout's actions. He is planning to marry his son to my niece, your goddaughter."

"Young Astrid," Stoick eyes widened in surprise, remembering the little girl who used to visit him during Snoggletog holidays, "Do you want me to approve of this union?"

"He'l no!" Finn chuckled wryly, hiding his hands within his pockets, "I will not force my niece. She might kill Snotlout even before the hand fasting takes place. Astrid is handy with an axe. She's a fierce beauty who acts more like a Valkerie than a simpering lass. I have stalled the engagement for now, but..." his blue eyes narrowed and he frowned, "Your brother has a reputation. Everyone knows that it's not a good thing to go against the wishes of a Jorgenson."

Stoick scowled, knowing all too well how his brother operated.

"And he will not give up until he gets what he wants," Finn said, clenching his jaw, "and what Spitelout wants from my family is more than just a mere marriage."

"My goddaughter's inheritance..." Stoick said sagely.

Finn nodded his head, "The Hofferson clan may not own a higher title in court but we have built our wealth through banking and real estate over the years. The Royal Bank of Berk still stands as the back bone of our economy. I own a third of our estate but Astrid will inherit the rest of it."

"But if she marries my nephew, Spitelout can demand to be given subsidiaries as part of the marriage contract." Stoick sighed and massaged his temple with one hand.

This news was worrying indeed.

"Jorgenson, Inc. had already inserted itself in various industries within Berk, sinking its claws through stock buy outs and hostile takeovers of small startup companies. If he tries to control the banking system through my niece, then..." The earl pursed his lips into a thin line, "I do not want to think about the consequences of such a situation."

Stoick studied his guest for a moment, thinking about what he knew about this man. He treated Astrid's father, the late Asmund Hofferson, as a dear friend, knowing him to be wise beyond his years. Finn, the younger brother, was once known to be a fearless a thrill seeking rebel who only became repentant of his ways when the tragic accident occurred.

But Finn had a reputation of being trustworthy even during his wild rebellious phase.

Perhaps it was time for Stoick to widen his circle of allies.

"Can I be assured of your loyalty?" he asked his guest.

Finn's blue eyes widened in surprise, knowing the weight of those words, "You have my fealty and the truthfulness of my spirit…"

"Then," Stoick leaned forward and regarded the man with a serious expression, "I have something to tell you…"

To be continued...

 **A/N** : I'm back! Sorry for the delay. Totally my fault. I got sucked into DC Rebirth comics (especially the Superman fandom) and totally ignored this fic. I plan to write shorter chapters in order to just get things going. Yep, I have not abandoned this.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Hiccup held a pencil in his left hand and began sketching across an empty page. He deliberately ignored the teacher's current lecture, finding himself too focused on his task to bother himself with schoolwork. He wanted nothing more than to move on to the next class; the only subject he eagerly wanted to attend.

Innately, he acknowledged that drawing dragons had become his major coping mechanism. It let his mind drift off, giving him an easy way to escape the reality of his situation, subsequently tempering his need to see Toothless once more. Everything else became background noise once he put lead to paper. Quick deliberate strokes soon formed into a round and bumpy head. He added a pair of wide circular eyes, a sharp toothed grin, and a lolling tongue. A bulbous body with a matching tail finished the rough sketch.

Then his mind snapped to attention. Forest green eyes narrowed in concern the moment he heard the teacher mention something that made his stomach turn.

"I will divide you all into small groups," his basic business management teacher, Mrs. Larson, announced, "The challenge will be to conceptualize a start-up business with your teammates and to build it into a successful enterprise. I expect that you would collaborate with one another and submit the best output. This project will make up half of your total grade."

Hiccup hunched his shoulders. His fingers enclosed around his pencil in a tight grip, almost breaking the thin piece of wood into two. Group work made him recall bitter memories. Past experiences made him dread it. Sitting inside a room full of people who openly ridiculed him gave him an inkling of what could be the inevitable outcome of this endeavour. He took a quick glimpse to his left only to see Fishlegs twiddling his thumbs in a nervous manner.

Perhaps he was not the only one who dreaded this sudden turn of events.

"I will call your names," Mrs. Larson's feminine voice rose above the groans and complaints of her students. "The first group will be: Snotlout, Camicazi, and Ruffnut. Gather together and discuss your plans for the project."

Hiccup exhaled a hefty breath of relief, not realizing he had been holding it in trepidation. The tension in his neck and shoulders loosened up. He knew all too well that he had just evaded a potentially difficult situation. With Snotlout grouped right off the bat, the probability that he could be grouped with someone easier to work with would be pretty high. He chanced a look behind his shoulder and saw Ruffnut and Camicazi already gathered around his cousin's seat.

Snotlout smirked obviously pleased by the gender of his chosen teammates.

"Come on, ladies," he said as he flexed his biceps, "Gather 'round your future Crown Prince and bathe in the glory of my presence. My pretty princess and Heather can also join us if they want to." He wiggled his eyebrows at Astrid who immediately scowled and avoided his gaze.

"Ugh, do I have to?" Ruffnut whined, "Honestly, I'd rather be with handsome over there..." She wiggled her fingers at Eret then pouted like a bratty kid when the object of her affections frowned in return.

"And I'm grouped with a pair of idiots," Camicazi grumbled as she rolled her eyes. The petite blonde crossed her arms in displeasure and huffed at a strand of hair hanging over her face. Her frown deepened into a scowl when Snotlout continued to flex his muscles while Ruffnut blew kisses towards Eret.

Hiccup chuckled at Camicazi's ire, feeling quite relieved that he wouldn't be the one to deal with Snotlout and Ruffnut at the same time.

"Settle down!" Mrs. Larson instructed, clapping her hands together to garner the class' interest once more, "The next group will be: Fishlegs, Eret, and Heather..."

Fishlegs' face brightened up at the mere mention of Heather's name. The husky boy quickly shot up from his seat, accidentally shoving most of his things to the floor in his haste. He waved a hand in excitement, his grin widening even more when Heather reciprocated with a small smile. Dimples showed up on the girl's rounded cheeks and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Eret, on the other hand, puffed his chest and straightened his spine to stand taller, sizing up the other male in an obvious act of machismo.

Hiccup watched it all unfold with a brow arched in interest. It was quite clear that this group's dynamics would be distinctly different from the first team. He felt a pinch of envy, wishing that he was the one grouped with Fishlegs; the only person in class who acted civil towards him.

Then he blinked, suddenly aware that his given name was called, along with two others. His green eyes widened in surprise when it finally dawned on him.

He was grouped with Astrid Hofferson.

Hiccup tilted his head towards the right only to see Astrid already standing by his side. She looked on edge, shifting anxiously on her feet as her blue eyes gazed determinedly towards the floor. Shoulders stiff and hunched forward as she clutched her bag closer to her body.

Her discomfort was palpable.

He studied her, not able to guess what to expect. He knew all too well that her behavior had been unpredictable at best. The same girl who'd cheerfully toured him around the school premises had also been trying to actively avoid him for the past four days. It boggled and piqued his interest, making him want to uncover the true reason that halted the growth of their budding friendship.

Astrid often looked hesitant whenever he tried to start a conversation. She would bite her lip and give him one word answers. Sometimes she would excuse herself, slipping away from his reach whenever Snotlout was around the vicinity.

Yet even if she noticeably tried to stay away, Hiccup noticed something that puzzled him even more.

Astrid looked absolutely miserable.

She gradually withdrew from any sort social interaction with her peers and would be visibly upset whenever Snotlout ramped up his flirting. Sometimes Hiccup would see a spark of fury behind those captivating blue eyes. Astrid would ball her hands into fists as if tempted to throw a quick jab to the solar plexus, but her rage would quickly fade away. Hidden and replaced by a look of annoyance and frustration.

Hiccup gave her a small smile, hoping that perhaps this time around her behaviour would turn out differently.

"Hey," he began, keeping the tone of his voice light and engaging, "I guess we're grouped together."

"Yeah, I guess so..." Astrid said as she shrugged her shoulders.

She looked too cautious to be in his presence, nervously darting her gaze towards the back of the room where his cousin was. The smile on his face transformed into a frown and Hiccup threaded his fingers through his thick auburn hair, pulling at the roots in disappointment.

"Look, if you have a problem with me as your group mate then maybe you should ask Mrs. Larson to place you in another team."

Astrid's eyes widened, "Hiccup, I don't..."

"Its fine," he cut her off with a bite to his voice, "I'm used to people treating me like shit anyway."

Her face turned pale as she stared at him in shock. Her hesitation soon replaced by utter distress. Hiccup heard her mention his name several times but he ignored her, deciding to note down the instructions written on the board instead. He was used to rejection, used to people pushing him away, and doing projects on his own.

He would just add Astrid's name to the ever growing list of people who had disappointed him in the end.

A hand sharply prodded Hiccup on his shoulder, making him jolt in his seat. Cocking his head to the side, he saw Tuffnut Thorston standing beside a still stricken Astrid. The guy's lanky arms were crossed together, his mouth twisted into a sneer.

"I just had to be grouped with you, the missing foot guy," he said.

"Yeah, I'm so lucky," Hiccup's said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "being grouped with people who hate me and all that shit."

"I don't hate you..." Astrid spoke softly.

He heard the sincerity in her voice but he felt so damn tired of dealing with bullies and petty high school politics.

"Right," Hiccup scoffed, "as if you haven't been deliberately avoiding me all week..."

Astrid flinched, her guilty conscience clearly etched in her expression. She hugged herself, fingers digging into the flesh of her arms. This time she looked at him straight in the eyes.

"I know I have been avoiding you for the past several days," she confessed in a pleading tone, "but please believe me when I say that I have a valid reason why. I don't hate you, Hiccup... I never did."

She looked so upset and yet she kept her feelings at bay - a testament to her fortitude and resilience. Even if he resented her actions, something in her expression made his heart ache.

Hiccup couldn't help feeling conflicted. He knew he was sick of being ignored and avoided like the plague. Yet even with all her faults, he couldn't deny that he still wanted to be near her, that he still felt attracted to her, and found her beautiful beyond compare. A part of him wanted to give her a chance, thinking that perhaps they could still work together even just for one project.

Yet past experiences made him hesitant to trust someone whose motives he couldn't clearly figure out.

Tuffnut shrugged and flicked his finger at one of his dreadlocks.

"Look, I don't care about all your bickering but group work really isn't my thing," he said in a bored drawl, "Do whatever you want. I'll fund the whole project. Just put my name in when it's submitted. With Astrid on the team I'm sure it won't turn out to be a total disaster."

The Thorston twin shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking away...

"Fine," Hiccup scowled then spoke up in a clear voice, "I don't need to work with idiots anyway."

Tuff halted mid-step then slowly turned himself around.

"What did you say?" he demanded with a scornful twist of his mouth.

Astrid looked at the new student in horror. "Did you just call Tuff an idiot?"

"Well, I didn't really plan it," Hiccup hissed right back at her, "It just blurted out of my mouth."

He rubbed the back of his neck, chalking up his blunder to being born as a sarcastic smart ass with the uncanny ability spout bullshit at the most inappropriate times. Honestly, he could deal with Astrid's refusal to work with him, but he won't let someone like Tuffnut Thorston steal grade credits by dumping all the hard work on his lap.

Hiccup prepared himself, recalling every lesson in his martial arts training just in case he needed to block a sudden punch to the face.

Tuffnut marched forward towards the new student's seat. "What did you say?" he repeated with a growl.

Hiccup snorted.

Sometimes bullies were way too easy to predict.

"I said that maybe the reason why you don't want to help out is because you don't have the mental capacity to do so."

Astrid stared at Hiccup with pure panic in her eyes. "You idiot," she mouthed at him, "Do you want to die?"

Hiccup shrugged and gave her a nervous, yet cheeky grin. A part of him agreed that, yes, he was acting too carelessly. Call it male pride. Call it spontaneous stupidity. Call it ingenuity. He was mostly bluffing, but at least he had garnered Tuffnut's complete attention.

"I'll beat you with my face if I have to," the Thorston twin glowered, "I know I look like a hippie because of my dreads but I'm not fucking stupid."

"Then prove it." Hiccup laid down the challenge, "Help me out with the project and show me what you are made of."

For a moment, the two males silently glared at one another, clashing in an intense battle of wills. Then Astrid gasped in surprise when Tuffnut Thorston sat down on an empty chair, giving in rather than instigating a fist fight.

"Fine," Tuffnut cracked his knuckles, "I'm in."

Hiccup raised his brow, quite astonished that his bluff worked. Then he felt a sharp slap across the back of his nape. Looking back, he saw Astrid smirk at him.

"I'm in," she also announced.

Hiccup's jaw dropped at her declaration, "What?"

She settled her hand on one hip and cocked her head to the side, "Well, someone needs to keep you in line and make sure you won't do stupid decisions."

"I'm not an idiot," Tuff complained with a pout.

"I wasn't talking to you," Astrid smiled and lightly punched the twin on the shoulder, "So are we going to start our business plan or are we going to grumble all day long?"

Hiccup gazed at his teammates with a sense of wonder. He did not expect this outcome but he embraced it nonetheless.

"Great," he laughed and spread his arms, "Let's get started."

To be continued...

 **A/N: This scene occurred on the same day Stoick was confronted by his council. I will upload short chapters from now on unless I get struck by inspiration. I was stuck on the second part of this story but I don't wait for another week until I get it done so here's it is. I will upload the second part maybe two days from now. Have a great day everyone!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"We can sell food," Astrid cheerfully suggested, "I can bake some cookies or a whip up a batch of cupcakes. Food always sells well."

Hiccup nodded his head and noted it down, silently agreeing to her proposal. It made sense. Anything edible would be considered as an easy to sell commodity no matter what the season may be. They could latch on to a current trend or create a new one to drum up profits. He opened his mouth, about to share his thoughts on the matter, when Tuffnut whimpered. The male twin's eyes bulged and subsequently shuddered and gagged as if he tasted something foul.

"No, please don't!" Tuff pleaded, "Remember Snoggletog last year? Have mercy on our stomachs!"

Astrid's cheeks instantly turned a bright red. She played with the ends of her braid and fidgeted in discomfort. "It wasn't that bad..." she muttered in a small voice, "It was a traditional family recipe and some of our classmates liked it..."

"What wasn't that bad?" Hiccup looked at them in bewilderment. "Care to explain to the new guy?"

Tuffnut grimaced, still able to vividly recall the disaster that had been aptly deemed as the 'Hofferson Massacre'.

"Dude, she almost killed the whole class with her special eggnog concoction," Tuff waggled out his tongue as if the horrible taste of the beverage was still fresh in his mind, "Snot spent half a day in the infirmary with a mild bout of food poisoning. The rest of us had an impromptu race towards the toilet stalls. You do not want Astrid Hofferson creating any sort of edible food ever."

"Okay, maybe we can move on to think of safer and more profitable ideas..." Hiccup immediately held his hands up when the girl in question glared at them with the force of a thousand suns.

"I say we make explosives," Tuffnut grinned maniacally, "The bigger the blast the better."

Astrid haughtily crossed her arms and glowered at her opponent. "And how is this idea of yours better than me baking cookies?"

"We can sell it to warring countries or to the government for thousands of dollars," the male twin rubbed his hands together in glee, "It can create chaos, mayhem, and fun!"

Hiccup rubbed at the small spot between his brows, trying to dissipate the massive headache caused by his two teammates. He naively thought that planning a project with a group would be easier than doing things alone.

Nope.

Apparently, he was damn wrong about that.

"I said safer," Hiccup deadpanned. "That word does not equate to bombs..."

"Fine," Tuffnut jutted his lower lip like a spoilt kid, "We can still sell Astrid's cookies. It's lethal poison. I'm sure those cookies can murder more people than any manmade bomb."

Tuff quickly dodged Astrid's well executed right hook but howled in pain when her left hand tightly tugged at his dreads. The ends of Hiccup's mouth curved up into a smile when he saw her grin. Her uncharacteristic timidity had been replaced by a flash of fury behind those bright, blue eyes. Admittedly, he preferred her this way: strong, vivacious, and beautiful. The more she butted heads with the Thorston twin the more her confidence spiked up.

Then he paused and wondered...

What could have instigated such a radical change in her personality?

The Astrid Hofferson he had met on his first day of school possessed an undeniable aura of self-confidence. She didn't let Snotlout aggravate her nor push her buttons. Not until the time the bully broke Hiccup's nose with a sharp jab. But her assertive personality fizzled out the next couple of days. It was as if a doppelganger now walked around the school halls, replacing the girl he knew with a more anxious version of her own self.

It only took a split second for Hiccup to make a decision.

It was time for him to find out the truth.

He bent his head, quickly jotting down a message on his notepad. Then he ripped the piece of paper and folded it into two. Hiccup carefully observed Tuffnut from the corner of his eyes, waiting for the pair to calm down and anticipating the right time to act. He executed his plan the moment Ruffnut called out her brother's name. Tuff turned his head towards at the back of the room to yell back his reply, allowing Hiccup to slip the piece of paper into Astrid's open hand unnoticed.

Astrid knitted her brows and unfolded the note, immediately reading its contents. She scanned it twice, making sure she understood its meaning. At first, she looked hesitant and unsure, but she inevitably made her decision by nodding her head as a sign of her assent.

Hiccup's chest warmed as he experienced a feeling that he hadn't felt for quite some time...

It gave him hope.

It replaced his growing cynicism. Making him look forward to re-establishing their connection and fixing whatever had stunted the growth of their friendship.

Because he was so sick and tired of all the bullshit.

The school bell rang, finally ending the lesson. Tuffnut quickly rose to his feet without saying a word of goodbye. Then he jogged towards Snotlout and greeted the other boy with a bro fist and a high five. The room buzzed with blatant excitement. The whole class quickly gathered their belongings, anticipating the last subject for the day. Mrs. Larson announced that they were expected to pass their business proposal the following week, yet her words were ignored.

Astrid stayed behind just as Hiccup requested. He waited until the teacher and the rest of his classmates had gone out of the room before approaching her.

"You wanted to talk?" she asked. One of her hands kept tugging at her braid - a sign of her growing anxiety.

He knew he could lash out at her, pointing out all her faults, but he curbed his emotions and kept himself in check. He wanted to mend and to heal rather than to destroy.

"Did you mean it when you said that you don't hate me?" he asked calmly.

Astrid nodded her head and looked at him with guilt in her eyes. She looked so vulnerable that it made his heart ache.

"Then why have you been avoiding me?"

Astrid briefly squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled a deep breath. "I was just trying to protect you, Hiccup"

Forest green eyes widened in surprise, "Protect me from what?"

"It will be better for you if you would stay away from me..." she insisted as she took a step backwards, "You will be safer that way."

Hiccup knitted his brow, perplexed at her behaviour. He knew that she was at the verge of running away, but he had enough. He stepped forward and gently touched her shoulder, not willing to let her go.

"I'm not your enemy, Astrid," he assured her, "I want to be your friend. Help me understand why you are pushing me away. Please, tell me what you are afraid of."

"You can't fight against him," her voice trembled as she pleaded to him. "Snotlout thinks that I belong to him and he detests any male student who had tried to make friends with me. He will crush you if he wills it and you can't fight back. He'll ruin your whole life, your family. I've seen it done before to someone who had a higher class status than you have."

White hot anger pulsed in his veins and Hiccup snarled, "This is all because of Snotlout!"

She flinched when he said his cousin's name, mistaking his reaction for anger towards her. Astrid hugged herself and continued on, "Things will get harder for you if continue to hang out with me and he won't stop with just a single punch to your nose. He'll make you a target and turn the whole class against you. Just let me go, Hiccup. I'm not worth it."

"I won't let you go," he stated as he gazed into her eyes, "I won't let Snotlout stop me from being your friend."

-o-0-o-

Astrid's mouth hung open in surprise at his declaration. She thought that Hiccup would hate her, that he would push her away after every shitty thing that she had done. And yet he was still there by her side, standing his ground and refusing to let Snotlout Jorgenson to come between them.

Tears began to form in her eyes and she immediately wiped them away using the back of her hand. Her lips trembled as she sucked in a breath.

Most of her peers thought it was a grand privilege to garner a Jorgenson's special attention, often insisting that she should be grateful that she'd caught the eye of a powerful guy closely related to the royal family. Some of the older women within the peerage even envied her position, their petty jealousies urging them to destroy her reputation by spreading false rumours.

None of them understood that she never thought herself lucky to be the object of Snotlout's main obsession.

None of them cared that she often felt harassed by the Jorgenson heir's actions.

Astrid often felt isolated, struggling to form close friendships and frequently wary of those who might stab her in the back. Their society was filled of people who would not think twice to use her for her connections. Without any idea of whom she could truly trust, she usually ended up pushing people away. She projected an unflappable aura, hiding her true struggles behind a carefully cultivated image of cool confidence. Acting friendly yet kept everyone at a safe distance.

Now she felt even more trapped with Snotlout possibly gaining more power through the coveted position of Crown Prince. The Duke of House Jorgenson added additional pressure by pushing for her to enter an arranged marriage contract with his son.

It was as if unbreakable shackles were tied around her wrists, taking away her precious freedom.

It made her feel as if she had no choice but to bow down to their whims.

-o-0-o-

Hiccup felt worried when he saw her shed a tear. He felt a deep sense of regret, making him wonder if he made the right choice to confront her.

"I won't force you," he solemnly said, jamming his hands into his pockets, "I'll accept your decision if you don't want to be my friend."

Saying those words felt as if he was ripping himself in two, shredding his hope in the process. But he won't force her to accept him. If Astrid truly did not want to be associated with him, then he'd distance himself and respect her decision.

She dried her eyes and shook her head

"I don't deserve to be your friend," she said.

"But I want to be," Hiccup told her, "If only you would let me..."

A few more tears trickled down her cheeks but she quickly wiped it away.

"I'm stubborn and headstrong and I carry a metric ton full of emotional baggage," she direly warned him, "being my friend also means that you will gain Snotlout's ire and possibly become a favourite target of our classmates."

Hiccup snorted. As if it wasn't already happening. As if he'd let his cousin scare him.

"I'll be fine," he cheekily grinned, "You're worth it. Besides, they can't handle all this raw vikingness."

He flexed his thin arms, barely making his muscles twitch. At first she stared at him as if he had grown an extra head, then she laughed. Her laughter sounded like music to his ears.

"So friends?" he offered his hand.

She stared at his hand for a moment. Then smiled widely and shook it with enthusiasm, "Friends."

He grinned. His earlier ill mood had been replaced by overflowing mirth.

Then Astrid surprised him by tapping his shoulder and saying, "Tag!"

Hiccup's grin grew wider as she sprinted out of the room, obviously acting in a playful mood. He grabbed his bag and decided to follow at a more reasonable pace, his prosthetic foot preventing him from running in a swift manner. He went after her, jogging towards their next destination. They moved through the hallways and exited the main building. Excitement thrummed through his veins as they neared the location for the next class, the one he anticipated the most.

Basic Dragon Training had finally come.

The mighty roar of a dragon echoed all throughout the arena accompanied by the flapping of powerful wings. A certain thrill ran through his spine as he heard those familiar reptilian sounds. Astrid stood at the entrance of the massive arena, waiting for him to catch up.

She smirked at him and settled her hand against her hip. "I won!" she said.

"Well, it's easy to win a race against a disabled man," Hiccup mock pouted, "but I'll admit that you're pretty fast."

Astrid jaw dropped in horror. "Oh God, I forgot about your metal foot. I'm so, so sorry!"

"Its fine," he laughed at her embarrassment and tapped her shoulder in return, "Just show me what to do next since this is the first time I'm going to attend a Dragon Training class."

She pointed at two similar doors.

"We need to go to our changing rooms," she said. "Male and female rooms are separated so you'll be going to enter through right door while I will go through the left one. Stuff your bag into one of the lockers and change into flame resistant clothing. Everything we need is provided inside."

Hiccup smiled at her and tipped his head, "Thanks, Astrid."

Her smile was blinding and she shyly tucked her hair behind her ear, "No problem."

They separated as he walked through the right door. He felt relieved that locker room was almost empty. Fishlegs was the only one still there, currently struggling with the straps of his Dragon Training uniform. It was all in all black, simply designed, and had a hood to help protect the head.

"Need help?" he asked as he approached the other boy.

Fishlegs jumped back shock and accidentally collided against the new comer's body, sending the thinner boy's bag to fall to the floor. Hiccup's sketchbook and several pencils scattered on the ground.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Fishlegs fretted, bending down to help the new student pick up his things. Then his blue eyes widened in surprise when he saw the rough sketches of a Gronkle, "You like to draw dragons?"

There was a note of heightened excitement in Fishlegs' voice. The husky boy's eyes were wide with wonder when he picked up the drawings and gave it back to its owner.

"Yeah," Hiccup shrugged casually and shoved his sketchpad back into his bag, "I love drawing them, actually."

He wanted to tell his classmate that he lived with those majestic reptiles all his life and that he technically owned one, but he didn't want to boast. He smiled instead, relieved to finally have a fun conversation with Fishlegs.

"Really? I love dragons too!" The blond boy's face brightened up with enthusiasm for a moment before it fell into momentary guilt. "I'm sorry about ignoring you when the others are around. I just... I want to be your friend but I'm afraid that if I do so then..." His shoulders slumped. "You're not the only one whom they laugh at. They call me names too. I know I'm big but my mom always tells me that I'm just husky."

"So then be my friend," Hiccup declared. "You shouldn't care about what they say. You don't have to feel pressured by those arseholes. They can stay in their own clique and we'll make our own guild."

"It's not that easy," Fishlegs whispered frantically, "Jorgenson, Inc. owns half of my family's mining industry and if Snotlout ever hears about this... He can strike my family down through our finances or do something even worse. Snotlout doesn't really like you and the last time someone really got on his nerves, that person got expelled not only from this school but also from Berk."

"He can't do that! He's just a kid," Hiccup raised his brow in unbelief, "He can't have that kind of power."

"It's not only him, though," Fishlegs said and bit his lip nervously. "It is Jorgenson, Inc. I've seen many family run companies fall into ruin because the Jorgenson Family had bought out the vast majority of their stocks or have decimated their reputation through shady dealings with the media or through corporate and personal blackmail. Everyone else bows down to Snotlout because this. His family's company is so big that it practically owns almost half of Berk. They can basically buy off any company, except the Haddocks, Hoffersons, Thorstons, and the Oswaldsons. Camicazi is untouchable because she's a royal princess from Bog Island."

Hiccup pursed his lips, critically analyzing Fishlegs' words. Everything the boy said echoed all of Astrid's fears. He didn't like how his cousin was abusing his high status and how his uncle had the power to ruin other people's lives. Everyone in their class either sucked up to Snotlout or feared him.

No, Hiccup didn't like it at all.

"So let's be secret friends?" Hiccup suggested as he shrugged his shoulders. "It's better than nothing, I guess."

"Secret friends?" Fishlegs said in a hopeful tone.

"Yeah," Hiccup nodded, "We can ignore each other during classes and have fun talks about dragons in secret"

Fishlegs face brightened up eagerly agreed, shaking Hiccup's hand. "Yeah, let's be friends."

To be continued...

 **A/N: This is one of my favourite chapters to write. I love Hiccup standing up for himself and handling situations like a boss. Next up is Dragon Training.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

She stared at the letter she held in her hand, brown eyes briefly clouding with grief. The paper had noticeably yellowed with age, its wrinkled state a result from past repeated readings. Valka Cloud could no longer recall how many times she re-read its message. She knew every word by heart and despised it all the same. This simple correspondence changed the course of her life forever. Destroying a future she once dreamed of and consequently robbing her son of a chance to have a complete family.

She re-folded the letter and inserted it back into its envelope, hiding it within her knapsack where it would be kept safe along with the rest of her belongings. Looking around the empty tent, she felt the loneliness in her heart intensify. She once found their home a bit too small for their family of three. Now it felt too big, too spacious for a single person to live in. The all too quiet atmosphere made her yearn to hear Gobber's off-tune singing or her son's sarcastic quips.

Even if she missed their lively presence, Valka felt anxious and unsure about her eventual transfer to Berk. She acknowledged that she couldn't runaway this time, needing to face her faults, and to ask forgiveness from those whom she had hurt the most. She knew that this might be her last chance to make things right. Yet the fear of being rejected haunted her. It filled her with dread. It kept her awake at night.

She had convinced herself that she already lost Stoick.

She didn't want to lose her son too.

A heart wrenching wail sounded from outside the tent. Valka frowned, setting her things aside when Toothless' scaly head popped through the entrance flap. The dragon turned its head from side to side as if looking for someone in particular. When he did not find what he was looking for, Toothless whimpered. His bright green eyes filled with overwhelming sadness.

But there was nothing to be done. They could not leave. Not until she met up with the new Dragon Trainers, the ones who would be taking over the sanctuary. Valka approached the Night Fury and reached out her hand to soothe him with gentle touches. The dragon crooned and rubbed its head against the palm of her hand, momentarily appeased.

"I know you miss him," she told Toothless, "I miss Hiccup too…"

The dragon whimpered again as if it understood every word she said. It bothered her that the Toothless' appetite began to diminish during the past few days. The Night Fury used to devour a healthy helping of two barrels full of fish every day, but now the reptile could hardly finish his portions. Sometimes he refused to eat, opting to hide in the stables instead. Toothless couldn't fly without her son, forcefully grounding the reptile. Try as she might, Valka did not know how to work the complicated cogs and gears that enabled the disabled Night Fury to fly.

She sighed and closed her eyes. This shouldn't go on. Not when the consequences could become dire. She could not deny the fact that Toothless needed Hiccup's presence in order to survive.

Right then and there, she strengthened her resolve and decided to push her fears aside.

"We're going to meet him," Valka promised as she gently kissed the dragon's forehead, "We'll see Hiccup as soon as we can."

-o-0-o-

Hiccup's fingers couldn't help but tremble with barely contained glee as he zippered up and tightened the straps of his Dragon Training uniform. The flame resistant fabric felt a bit thick and warm against his lanky body. The cloth mimicked synthetic leather in its textured consistency, its color a deep murky grey. He tugged at the hood attached to the collar of his jacket until it fully covered his head. It helped to protect his messy hair from any stray fire shots that may come his way. Then he bent over at the waist, making sure to carefully cover his metal prosthetic and properly shielding it from high temperature flames.

Dragon fire would singe and burn, devouring anything and everything in its path.

He knew all too well how dangerous wild dragons could be. It does not matter how lovable and loyal the trained ones could become. It does not matter how well he could communicate with the reptilian beasts. The various semi-faded pinkish scars scattered all over his body gave proof to the constant risk. A shallow wound from a stray Deadly Nadder spike could quickly turn into a death knell. High-intensity kerosene gel flames from a Monstrous Nightmare could easily burn and warp skin.

The very stump below his left knee would be a testament to how bloody sharp dragon teeth could be. He could still vividly remember how smoothly those jagged teeth sliced through his flesh and bone, the pain mind numbing and unbearably excruciating. Once, he wondered if his life would have been cut off short then and there if his mother was not able rescue him in time.

He was lucky to survive, lucky enough to live another day.

Yet the dangers he could face did not faze him. Not when the rewards far outweighed the risks.

Hiccup couldn't help but smile when he fitted a pair of thick standard training gloves unto his hands. He stretched his fingers, savoring the feel of supple leather enclosed around his skin. He missed this; missed the caress of warm winds tousling through his hair as he expertly glided across a cloudless summer sky. He looked forward to the adrenaline rush and the feeling of freedom that came with it. He even missed the disgusting fish scented slime of Toothless' saliva whenever his big baby boo covered his whole face with lovable licks.

For a moment, he frowned. His pleasant mood dissipated, suddenly replaced with a deep-set longing that had steadily grown within him since his arrival on Berk.

They say that home is where the heart is. Not just a mere house or building where a group of people could live in. Prior to his arrival in this new country, Hiccup never experienced living within a proper house. For most of his life he'd lived like a nomad, moving from place to place. He would sleep within canvas tents, spreading out sleeping bags on rocky ground. When the temperature fell to freezing, he preferred to sleep within the stables where he could snuggle against Toothless' side. His body blanketed by an enormous jet black wing.

Any spare thoughts of his best friend made him long for that feeling of familiarity and comfort. Even now he would toss and turn at night, unconsciously looking for the overwhelming warmth that only a dragon can give. In two or three weeks he knew that his mother would be transferring to the local Berkian Dragon Sanctuary. Soon, Hiccup would see Toothless, Cloudjumper, and Grump once more. That fact gave him a small bit of reprieve but he still found the wait too long.

"Is everything okay?" Fishlegs asked with a frown, "You look a bit sad…"

"It's nothing," Hiccup smiled wryly as he shook his head, "Just thinking about my past home and those I had left behind."

He shoved any thoughts of his beloved Night Fury to the back of his mind. He didn't need to think of Toothless right now. Not when he was about to interact with dragons once again.

The blond looked at him for a moment then guiltily shifted his feet on the floor, "I'm sorry I treated you unfairly before. That was wrong of me."

There was an air of discomfort between them. Hiccup waved his hand wanting to dispel it as quickly as possible. Friends were quite rare for him to have. He won't give up this chance to add another ally to his side.

"Water under the bridge," He said, "I'm just glad we could be friends now. Even just in secret."

His heart warmed when he saw Fishlegs' relieved smile.

They left the locker room after that, not wanting to be late for class. Fishlegs chatted up a storm as they walked through the hallway that would lead to the main area of the arena. The blond boy acted like a portable encyclopedia, spouting a myriad of draconic facts with an engaging enthusiasm that wanted to burst at the seams. Hiccup didn't mind the information overload. He nodded his head, appreciating the conversation though he already knew most of the information through firsthand experience. Nevertheless, he was happy to talk about dragons once again.

"Mr. Hoark said that there's going to be a guest teacher today," Fishlegs informed him, "He promised to invite one of the famed Dragon Masters in the northern lands. First day we'll see a live dragon too."

Hiccup raised his brow in astonishment. "But isn't this is a Dragon Training Class? We should be interacting with dragons all the time. That's the best way to learn."

He could still remember how crude Gobber's lessons were. His uncle strongly believed in jumping right into the fire, in learning everything firsthand rather than just sitting in the sidelines. Never mind about safety measures and all that rot. That particular teaching method often led to injuries and disasters, but hey, Hiccup learned fast - if only to save his skinny hide from being maimed.

"I know," Fishlegs sagely agreed, "but Mr. Hoark believes that we should learn the fundamentals first. He's been teaching us the proper safety guidelines for weeks."

"So the boring stuff like reading from text books, huh," Hiccup shrugged, suddenly preferring his uncle's unorthodox albeit dangerous teaching methods.

"Yes, but now I'm so, so excited," the blond boy visibly shivered with glee, "I wonder what species we'll see today…"

Hiccup tapped his chin and thought for a moment, considering the probable options. "Maybe they'll introduce Boulder Class and Tracker Class dragons," he surmised, "Gronckles, Rumblehorns, and Hotburples most likely; easiest ones to introduce to a new crowd and trouble-free enough to tame."

"And they are less dangerous than Stoker, Mystery, and Sharp Class species!" Fishlegs added with a grin, "I mean, we can't have Thunderdrums and Scauldrons since those dragons need a vast amount of seawater to live. The deadly Strike Class ones, like Skrills, are mostly rare or close to extinction…"

"Pity that," Hiccup sighed as he stretched his arms behind his head. Toothless would be considered to be a Strike class dragon and probably the last of his kind.

"I'm glad you're here," Fishlegs suddenly confessed, the smile on his face bittersweet, "Most of our other classmates would just ignore me when I talk about dragons. Ruffnut calls me a lame nerd. I wish she wouldn't do that. Even Heather looks at me funny when I try to teach her what I know…"

There was a faraway look on his face and Hiccup could only guess what it meant. "You like Heather, don't you?" he asked.

"Don't tell her!" Fishlegs said in panic, his chubby cheeks turning bright red. He nervously glanced behind his shoulder, quite afraid that someone would overhear their conversation. "She probably wouldn't even consider me because I'm..." His shoulders slumped in defeat as he pointed at his curved belly, "I'm not a heart throb like Eret and Snotlout, nor a popular cool guy like Tuffnut. I'm just me; big, husky Fishlegs who's too fat to do anything good..."

There was a note of defeat in his voice that Hiccup sympathized with the guy. He knew how it felt to be interested with someone who didn't care about him. There were times in the past when he would admire a pretty girl from afar, but he would always quell the feeling right away. Nothing good ever resulted from longing for someone out of his league.

"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about the things you love," Hiccup said, "Maybe someday you'll find someone who can appreciate you for who you are."

"You think so?" Fishlegs' blue eyes brightened with hope.

"Yeah, I do," Hiccup affirmed, "You're not the only one who has a hard time in the love department." He wiggled his prosthetic foot to make a point, "Never had a girlfriend ever, but I'm hoping to find someone someday."

Their conversation abruptly broke off when they heard the flapping of large wings. A thunderous roar resonated from the main area of the arena, accompanied with the thrashing of an enormous tail against hard ground. The roaring got louder and louder the closer they approached their destination. Fishlegs grinned at him, rubbing his hands together; excitement rising to a fever pitch. Hiccup halted mid-step. The smile on his face transformed into a frown as his whole body stilled

Something felt off…

He couldn't put his finger on the exact reason why. Hiccup closed his eyes, strained his ears and tried to listen closely. He could faintly perceive his classmates' excited conversations. An unfamiliar deep voice bellowed in anger, mimicking an alpha dragon's intimidating blaring snarl. Rising above the mundane noise was a dragon's answering roar. Something about that sound bothered him. He couldn't shake the off feeling. Then his forest green eyes went wide open, understanding dawning upon him when he finally deciphered the reason why it rattled him so much.

It was the distinctive sound of a dragon in pain.

Pure instinct drove him forward. Hiccup ran as fast as his disability allowed him, his shoes and metal prosthetic skidding against the tiled flooring as he left Fishlegs behind. He heard his fried call out his name in bewilderment, asking him to wait up, yet he ignored those pleas and pushed on. His green eyes widened in horror when he finally reached his destination.

A large man swung a wooden staff high into the air then savagely brought it down, striking at the ground near a Monstrous Nightmare's head. The dragon screamed in reply then suddenly engulfed itself in kerosene-gel flames.

"Stop!" Hiccup yelled, "What are you doing?"

Every person within the area of the arena turned towards him, their shock at his sudden appearance quite evident on their faces. Hiccup glared at the one holding the wooden staff. The large man snarled at the newcomer. His disfigured face contorted with rage before facing the Monstrous Nightmare once again. The dragon roared and breathed hot fire. The stranger raised the thick black cape attached around his shoulders and deflected the flames until it dissipated. Onyx colored dreads swung behind the man's head as he swung the staff once more. This time he did it with more brute force.

Hiccup didn't think twice. He knew what he needed to do.

He sprinted towards the attacker, using his momentum to halt the staff's descent. Hiccup grunted as he pushed his hands upwards, momentarily stopping the brutish thug from bashing the dragon's head. The Monstrous Nightmare retreated with a howl, using the given opportunity to run away from the abusive trainer.

The older man growled as they struggled for dominance. Both males' gripped the staff tightly, using all of their strength to counter one another. Hiccup gritted his teeth. His arms felt the increasing strain and he knew he could not push on much longer. The stranger smirked and kicked the boy's side, sending him to the ground.

Hiccup wheezed and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt a throbbing pain when his prosthetic abrasively twisted against the flesh of his stump. It hurt. Damn it, it hurt. He gritted his teeth and shoved all thoughts of the ache away from his mind. Pushing the palm of gloved hands against the cemented floor, he forced himself to stand tall once again.

"Who is this fool?" the man snarled. "Who dares to interrupt me?"

Another man raised both hands, a look of utter terror evident on his features. "I… I haven't seen this boy ever, sire."

"He's the new student, Mr. Hoark," Astrid jogged towards the teacher and faced the guest Dragon Master. "I apologize for the disruption. This is the first time he's ever joined a Basic Dragon Training class."

The enormous man glared at the class' disruptor. "Take him away. I will not accept such insolence in my presence. No one can disrespect Drago Bludvist."

Hiccup gritted his teeth when he heard some of his classmates laugh merrily at his misfortune. He scanned their faces. Some, like Astrid, Fishlegs, and even Heather looked concerned. Camicazi rolled her eyes. Eret raised his brow while Ruffnut and Tuffnut bro fisted one another, cackling with glee.

Fury clenched at Hiccup's heart. He'd been looking forward to this class all week, imagining himself to be able to show off his skills. Hoping that maybe he could finally show them that he wasn't just some disabled loser. Nothing was working his way. He hated every moment of it.

"Get out!" Drago shouted at him, "or this class is done."

Complains and moans broke from his peers.

"Didn't you hear the guy, slim stick?" Snotlout yelled, "Get the fuck out of class. You're ruining it for everyone."

"Come on, missing foot guy! Get your ass out!" Tuffnut snarked, "I want to see more dragons breathing fire action!"

"Yeah," Ruffnut grinned, "but I want more pain and destruction."

Hiccup met Astrid's eyes and he could see the compassion in her eyes. 'Just follow his instructions, please,' she silently mouthed to him, 'Don't get in trouble…'

Forest green eyes glared at this cruel Dragon Master. He hated this man and his ilk; the kind of trainers who actively use pain and fear to tame these loving and loyal creatures. Hiccup had lived with dragons all his life. He trained his first Terrible Terror at the wee age of three. He saw every species imaginable and stared into the eyes of a rampaging Red Death without fear.

He made his decision right then and there.

"This is wrong," he declared to everyone. "Using intimidation and pain to train dragons is wrong. I don't care if you are a self-proclaimed Dragon Master. This stops now."

The Dragon Master bared his teeth and pointed at the exit sign. Hiccup glared back, staring straight into the crude man's black eyes. He and Drago faced off one another while his classmates jeered and some even started to shout profanities at him. Mr. Hoark looked terrified and shrunk back, quite afraid.

"Hiccup, what are you doing?" He heard Astrid shout in fear. Her concern for him was palpable but Hiccup didn't care.

"You think that a weakling like you," Drago rudely gestured his hands at Hiccup's thin body. "A naïve stupid boy, can do a better job than a Dragon Master like me?"

The pain in his stump seemed inconsequential compared to the rage that Hiccup felt in his heart, "Yes."

His voice sounded clear as it resonated within the arena. Drago barked a deep, throaty laugh. Snotlout and Tuffnut followed the guest teacher's cue. Eret huffed in annoyed and Fishlegs visibly looked devastated. Hiccup knew that his new friend looked forward to this class the most, but he couldn't just let this kind of abuse go on. It had to stop.

"Is that so?" Drago grinned, teeth bared, "Well then, if you know so much. Be my guest. Train this unruly dragon. Make her heel."

The Dragon Master pointed to the far wall and where the Monstrous Nightmare started to thrash itself repeatedly against the hard concrete. Hiccup pursed his lips, knowing that his diagnosis would ring true. This dragon was in pain, and if this man, this self-proclaimed Master could not detect that then maybe he was the fraud.

"You can't do that!" Astrid protested, "That's against the school rules. He's just a student!"

"Shut your mouth, little girl," Drago Bludvist sneered, "I will not tolerate this impudence. Let this fool injure his self." He laughed once again and crossed his arms, "Begin."

Hiccup closed his eyes, his quick mind mapping out the possibilities that may arise. His first encounter with a Monstrous Nightmare became a nightmare in itself. He could remember trying to touch the dragon's snout. The fire and flame that came after that and the ever present danger of sharp teeth that could have broken his bones and pierced through his skin. If it wasn't for Toothless' intervention, he would have been severely injured and maimed.

But he had learned his lesson since then.

He was Hiccup Cloud; the only son of world renowned Dragon Master, Valka Cloud. He lived and communicated with dragons all his life. He flew with them, slept by their side, and earned his skills through hard work and dedication. He may not be a certified Dragon Trainer yet, but damn it, he'll prove his worth.

He'll prove them wrong.

Opening his eyes, he calmly walked towards one of the fish barrels, picking out an adequately sized Atlantic cod in the pile. He hooked his gloved fingers into the fish's mouth.

"That is your plan?" Drago huffed, "Feeding an unruly dragon?"

Hiccup could hear the mocking jokes and laughter start once again, but he found that he did not care. The dragon needed his help. None of them realized that this particular one was experiencing pain. None of them realized that this behavior was just a symptom of a bigger problem that needed to be solved. He calmly approached the ailing reptile, determined that he knew the proper solution.

The Monstrous Nightmare kept knocking its head against the ground or against the wall. It roared and flapped its wings. Its hind legs thrashed around as it did so. Hiccup raised his arm, his fingers holding tightly on to the cod. The dragon momentarily stopped moving. Its nostrils got bigger as it caught a whiff of the fish's scent.

"Easy, girl," Hiccup said as he noticed the distinctive markings on its red scales. It indicated that the dragon was female. "Calm down. I'm here to help you…"

In normal circumstances, the best way to earn the trust of a Monstrous Nightmare was to simply show the respect it deserves. Placing a hand on the snout and throwing a piece of fish into its mouth could do wonders. But this situation required something more dangerous. The Nightmare roared, raising its head, and shot a ball of fire near his position, only missing him by two feet. He could hear the laughter behind him change into panicked yells as something caught on fire.

Hiccup kept his eyes trained on the beast.

"Astrid," he yelled, "How many times has this Nightmare breathed fire?"

"What?" he heard her yell back, "I don't understand…"

"I need to know how many times she had released her fire shots." Hiccup shouted over the panicked din.

The dragon thrashed once again, moaning and roaring.

"Seven!" Astrid screamed as the dragon rose to his clawed feet and began to be engulfed in flames.

Hiccup swore since that meant there were still three more shots to go. The situation just got more dangerous, yet he reigned in his nerves and controlled it with much determination. He ran to the other side when the Nightmare tried to ram its horns into his gut. He could only dodge its attacks as he waited for the kerosene gel flames to fizzle out.

"Foolish boy!" Drago yelled, "You have done nothing. Leave this place and let a Master like me to take care of this beast."

"Not on your life, dreadlocks!" Hiccup cheekily snarked back. He ran and sprinted, missing being burned by another fire shot, "Two more to go!"

The Monstrous Nighmare snapped its long, sharp teeth, crawling on its wings as it pursued its prey around the enclosed area. The chase continued for only for few minutes but it felt like it went on forever. Hiccup dodged another shot and smirked when the gel-flames finally fizzled out. He knew he now had a chance when –

It felt as his whole world upended when one of the dragon's enormous wings knocked him to the ground. Hiccup wheezed, back aching, lungs struggling to breathe. The Nightmare's head hovered over him, just a few inches away from his face. Green eyes widened in panic as the dragon opened its maw. Sharp fangs glinted in the sunlight, threatening to tear him to pieces. He could smell its fishy breath and saw the bright orange fire building in its throat as he stared into its open maw.

It was like staring into the eyes of death itself, and he knew that he could die if he didn't act fast.

Hiccup narrowed his eyes, looking and searching within that cavern of sharp teeth. The back of the dragon's throat began to brighten even more. Then he saw it…

He rolled to the side, missing being roasted to a crisp by a few seconds. The last shot had been fired. The Nightmare's gel flames also began to cease.

Now, would be the best time to act.

He jumped to his feet, using his adrenaline rush to propel himself forward. Hiccup ran towards the dragon's head, gloved hands grabbing the Nightmare by the horns. He used his whole weight and momentum to press its head against the ground. It instantly calmed down as he predicted, slumping still like a giant lump of contented reptile. He only had a few seconds before it would become violent once again.

Hiccup removed his left glove and stuck his hand into its open maw, fingers carefully searching for the main problem that caused the dragon's pain. Grabbing on to it tightly, he pulled with all his might until the rotted tooth came off. The Monstrous Nightmare momentarily thrashed in pain before calming down once again in relief.

"You're fine now," he cooed to the female, "You'll be okay."

Safely removing his hand from inside the dragon's mouth, he touched its snout with his bare hand until the dragon closed its eyes, tamed. Amazed silence filled the arena as he calmly walked back towards the discarded Atlantic cod lying on the floor. He picked it up and held it in front of the dragon's nostrils. The Nightmare opened its maw and Hiccup gladly tossed the fish right into its tongue. Then he soothed it with soft touches, running his fingers on the smooth space between its yellow eyes.

The dragon crooned, contented and appeased.

"Hey girl, you think you could give me a short ride?" Hiccup asked the female Nightmare, "I'm kind of having a problem with these assholes and I need your help…"

The Nightmare blinked then appeared to smile, gladly lowering its snake like neck to the ground. Hiccup chuckled and swiftly climbed on. His adrenaline rush rose to a higher as its large wings began to move. He gripped the dragon's twisted horns and whooped loudly as it launched itself upwards.

Flying with the wind in his hair felt like coming home. Hiccup laughed and laughed and laughed, his jaw starting to ache from grinning too much. Taking a peek below, he saw his classmates pointing at him in wonder and staring at him with widened eyes. He could see Fishlegs and Astrid waving their arms enthusiastically in the air.

"Time to go down, girl," he told the dragon after two exhilarating laps around the arena. His hand patted its bright red scales in thanks, "I'm sure it's time for you to eat your dinner."

The Nightmare crooned in agreement and they began to descend downwards. The wind rushed against his body and his hands held tight around its horns until they landed safely on solid ground.

Reluctantly, Hiccup got off his new friend. "Thank you," he told the reptile.

The Monstrous Nightmare nodded its head before walking on its wings towards the barrel full of fish. It happily gorged itself with food, unaware of the tension that arose around her.

Hiccup grinned happily and was about to run towards his new friends when he felt a hand grab the hood of his uniform, yanking him backwards.

"Who are you, boy?" Drago hissed through gritted teeth. Anger rolled off like waves from him. "Tell me your name!"

Hiccup glared at the brute. Hate began to brew within him and he clenched his fists, trying to curb the urge to break this thug's nose. He had proven them wrong and successfully tamed a wild Monstrous Nightmare. He will not allow himself to be bullied any longer.

Should he tell them that he was the only son of one of the most premier Dragon Masters in the world? That his uncle was an award winning Dragon Dentist, and that he had trained dragons ever since he was a child?

Should he tell them that he was a long, lost prince? That Haddock blood ran through his veins? That he could become the future king of this kingdom if would only grab that chance?

Should he ask his father to make this man's life into a miserable hell? Because he could if he wanted to, he earned that right as the potential heir to the throne.

Hiccup relaxed his balled fists and released a deep shuddering breath. He removed those depraved thoughts from his mind, not allowing himself to yearn for power or prestige. What good was it to brag about his mother's accomplishments? He wanted to be known for his own skills, not to be praised for being his mother's son. What good was it to break his promise not to tell anyone of his true identity? Not when he didn't know if he wanted that role in the first place.

He was different from his cousin. He would not allow himself to act like Snotlout.

"I am nothing but a Hiccup," he told Drago.

The bigger man shoved him away and eyed him with contempt. Drago bared his teeth in an attempt to intimidate but Hiccup snorted in retaliation. He'd faced much more terrifying dragons, big deal.

"I expect to be compensated for this humiliation," the brute of a Dragon Master snarled towards Mr. Hoark, "Class dismissed!"

Drago Bludvist quickly exited the arena and most of his classmates looked at him in amazement. Snotlout scowled, glaring at Hiccup's direction. Tuffnut could only stare at him with his mouth comically wide open. Camicazi, Ruffnut, and Heather seemed to study him with growing interest. Eret huffed and crossed his arms. Fishlegs, on the other hand, seemed to vibrate with excitement. Astrid came towards him and punched his right arm.

"What the Hel!" Hiccup winced and rubbed at the aching spot, "What did I do wrong?"

"That's for scaring me and this…" Astrid smiled brightly and lightly punched his other arm, "is for acting like an idiot. You could have injured yourself!"

"But I didn't" Hiccup held his hands up in his defense, "I knew what I was doing, I swear."

"How did you learn how to do that?" Heather suddenly asked. She smiled at him shyly and tucked loose hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, that was cool," Ruffnut chimed in and flipped her hair, "for an absolute nerd."

"Well, I don't care if he gets burned or eaten by a dragon," Snotlout said snidely and snapped his fingers, "Come on, everyone, let's go back to the locker rooms. Class is finished. We shouldn't even be here."

Tuffnut saluted the Jorgensen heir and followed the irate boy out of the main arena. Eret followed them from behind as did Camicazi, and Ruffnut. Heather looked a bit disappointed but smiled kindly at Hiccup before joining the rest of their group. It seemed that Snotlout still had clout over his clique. They followed his orders without qualms.

Hiccup sighed, shoulders slumping. The adrenaline rush vanished from his system replaced by a bone deep weariness that made him want to close his eyes and fall asleep. He stepped forward and his knees buckled, almost sending him falling face first to the ground. Astrid and Fishlegs caught him by his elbows and steadied him on his feet. He winced as he accidentally put his full weight on the left side of his body. He fully felt the bruising around his stump. The metal prosthetic rubbed roughly against it, magnifying the pain.

"You okay?" Astrid asked in concern.

"It's my stump," Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, "It's been injured when that Drago Bludvist guy kicked me to the ground. It hurts."

"I think we should bring him to the infirmary," Fishlegs suggested sagely.

Astrid bit her lip in concern and nodded in agreement, "Come on. We should get him there before the school closes."

After changing their clothes in the locker rooms and retrieving their bags, the three students rushed towards the infirmary. The trip took shorter than expected. Fishlegs' added presence helped a lot in making the journey much quicker. Hiccup moaned when he sat down on one of the chairs within the nurse's office and carefully dislodged his metal prosthetic from his aching stump. The nurse frowned as she took off the sock liner and proceeded to gently prod the reddened bruised skin.

"Will he be okay?" Astrid inquired. She frowned as she saw the slight bleeding.

"Just a bit of bruising, nothing too serious," the medical practitioner said, "I'll give him an antibacterial cream. I'll spread it around the wound and I'll swathe it in bandages to shield it from further harm."

"Thank you," Hiccup told the nurse in gratitude. He hated it when his stump got injured. Maybe he would be exempted from his daily training regimen if he told his guards found out about his injury. He rested his head against the wall behind the chair and relaxed his body while the medical practitioner did her job.

"Can I ask you a question?" Fishlegs timidly said. He looked embarrassed but brightened up when Hiccup nodded his head. "Where did you learn how to train dragons?"

Hiccup pursed his lips for a few moments, deliberating if he should tell the truth. In the end, he decided to tell them. He didn't want to build the foundation of his new friendships with lies.

"My mother, Valka Cloud, is a famed dragon trainer and my uncle, Gobber the Belch, is a Dragon Dentist. I lived with dragons all my life. I've seen every species imaginable and learned to train them even when I was a child."

"Oh my!" Fishlegs clapped his hands as his eyes widened in excitement, "Your mother is Valka Cloud! Oh my Thor! She's a celebrity! A wonder! She's the famed Dragon Master who saved a flock of dragons from a savage and insane Red Death."

"Yeah," Hiccup smiled wryly, "That event was pretty memorable."

"You were there?" Astrid asked instinctively, "Mr. Hoark told us about that event weeks ago. He told us that it was unfortunate that the Red Death had to be killed."

"Yeah," Hiccup said as he bitterly closed his eyes, his mind clearly recalling his living nightmare. "I lost my foot during that time."

Fishlegs and Astrid looked at one another in surprise. Hiccup sighed and ran his fingers through his unruly hair.

"Look, training dragons is dangerous. It's different from taming dogs or cats. You can lose your limbs. You can get severely burned. My uncle lost his hand and foot due to an unruly wild dragon. Some are easy to train, but there are some species that are too perilous for even certified Dragon Trainers to tame."

"But you're not afraid of dragons even if you went through that," Fishlegs commented in amazement, "I'll probably be too traumatized to approach a dragon if that happened to me."

"It's worth it," Hiccup grinned, "Once you bonded with a dragon there would be no turning back. They are the most loyal and loving creatures I've ever met. I can't imagine myself doing anything else. I want to be a certified Dragon Trainer after I graduate."

He couldn't imagine a life without Toothless, Cloudjumper, and Grump. Yes, the lifestyle was undeniably dangerous but he couldn't let it go no matter what.

"What you did was amazing," Astrid grinned with pride as she put her hands on her hips, "You should have seen Snotlout's face when you were doing your victory lap in the sky. He looked furious."

"I think he wanted to punch you when you landed on the ground, but Mr. Bludvist got to you first," Fishlesgs said nervously, "You should really be cautious around him. Snotlout doesn't like getting upstaged."

Hiccup sighed. Bullies mostly didn't leave their targets alone and they hated not being the center of attention. He knew this was a sign of a power play but he won't engage in it.

"I'll be careful, I promise," he told them, "but I won't back down if he tries to attack me."

"And we'll be there to help you," Astrid grinned and lightly punched him once again.

Hiccup winced even if it didn't really hurt at all, suddenly realizing that this was the way she showed her affections. He looked at them with gratitude in his heart. He rapidly blinked his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to withhold the rush of his emotions. He wanted to cry in gratitude but didn't want to shame himself in front of Astrid and Fishlegs.

For the first time in his life, he had friends. Two people who willingly helped him out and stood by his side when he needed them the most.

It felt so good.

"Want to hang out after school?" Astrid asked Hiccup with a smirk, "I know a really good place that sells great coffee and pastries." She turned towards the other boy, "Wanna come with us, Fish?"

"I don't know," Fishlegs frowned and wrung his hands together. He bit his lip, unsure what to do.

Astrid squeezed the blond boy's shoulder. "I know you're afraid of what Snotlout can do. I'm afraid too, but I'm tired of pushing everyone away. Snotlout can't do anything to us if he doesn't know what we are doing."

"We'll keep everything in secret?" Fishlegs said in hope.

"If we have to," Hiccup assured, "I don't want to get anyone in trouble. I know Snotlout seems to have grudge against me but I won't let that affect our friendship."

Astrid looked at him with pride in her eyes. Her heart swelled at his declaration. Finally, someone wanted to stand up for her. Someone was not afraid of the consequences of being her friend. She already lost so much. Stretching her arm, she reached out for Hiccup's hand and squeezed it tightly. For a moment, he looked at her with widened eyes, surprise evident in his expression. Hiccup grinned and squeezed her hand in return.

She couldn't help but feel that everything would turn out okay.

"We should head out separately," Fishlegs suggested. He took out his mobile and noted the time. "My driver will be picking me up in ten minutes."

"Good idea," Astrid agreed, "Let's meet at Le Petit Café in about twenty minutes, it's the one at the corner of 5th street. They have private booths that can shield us from the public. Do you need a ride?" she asked the new student.

Hiccup shook his head, thinking of his guards. "I'll get there on time, I promise."

-o-0-o-x

He glared at the scene before him.

Snotlout couldn't hear their voices or what they had been talking about. What he saw was enough to rile him up. He happened to stumble upon them by coincidence while walking around the parking lot at the back of the school building. He was waiting for his car to arrive when he noticed Astrid's familiar braid from afar. He knew that golden shade of blonde all too well and worriedly approached the infirmary's windows to see if she got herself injured. He hid himself behind a large bush and felt surprised to see that she wasn't alone. He saw Fishlegs too but wasn't worried about that fat ass.

What he saw angered him beyond compare.

Snotlout could clearly see his princess smile warmly towards the new guy. She even held his hand, their fingers comfortably intertwined. It pissed him off, making his blood boil. He reminded himself that he shouldn't disappoint his father. That creating an unnecessary scene would bring shame to the Jorgenson family. Nevertheless, it did not stop him from wanting to break the through glass window. His hands crushed leaves and twigs instead, imagining himself punching that asshole's head in.

He was a prince, born as royalty, fated to rule the Kingdom of Berk. Yet Astrid Hofferson never smiled at him that way. She never willingly held his hand, often making a point to avoid his presence if it was possible.

"Why is she doing this?" he hissed and clenched his fists.

They were supposed to marry, to bridge the Hofferson and Jorgenson clans' wealth. They could become the most powerful family in Berk. Yet here she was, acting like a tramp towards a new blood nobody. Snotlout didn't care if the guy was skilled with training dragons. He didn't care if he was disabled.

Right then and there, the Jorgenson heir made a decision.

He would make Hiccup Cloud's life a living hell.

To be continued…

 **A/N: Woohoo! I'm back! I love writing this chapter even if it was a big struggle. I had a lot of obstacles to overcome. My laptop had technical problems for two months. Then when I got it fixed, I lost my inspiration to write. It's hard to get the momentum back after taking a long break.**

 **In other news, I found this Swedish Band on youtube named Wintergatan. Their front man reminds me so much of Hiccup that it's crazy! Martin Molin is a musical and engineering genius and he looks so much like a live-action Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. He has the right hair color and even the right hair style. Yep, he's an engineering genius too.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

He slammed the front door as soon as he walked through the threshold. The manor's servants scattered away, trembling in fear as they hid from their young master's explosive temper. Snotlout Jorgenson forcefully pounded his feet across the marble flooring, deliberately creating as much of a ruckus as possible. His mouth twisted into an ugly scowl as he marched towards the west wing where he could find his father's study.

The scene he saw earlier that afternoon stayed glaringly clear in his mind. He could still recall Astrid's sweet smile and the way her fingers delicately intertwined with that loser's hand. The sharp sting of betrayal felt like a sharp knife piercing through his gut, but most of all, he hated that rake thin nobody who suddenly intruded into his perfect life.

"Who cares if that loser knew how to train dragons?" Snotlout sneered.

Straightening his shoulders, he tilted his chin up with pride and reminded himself of his great importance. He was still the prince, the only possible scion to a thousand year old throne. He hailed from a bloodline of Viking Kings, from a family well known for the power and prestige it wields. This new guy, this nobody, was nothing compared to someone like him - just an unimportant obstacle that could be easily thwarted if he wanted it to be done so.

He took in a deep breath as he reached his destination. Raising his fist, he rapped his knuckles against the door to announce his presence.

"Come in," Spitelout Jorgenson's voice rang clear.

Twisting the knob, Snotlout walked inside and locked the door behind him to secure their privacy. He held his hands behind his back and wiped all sentiment from his face just as he was taught to do. Emotions were considered a weakness. His father often regarded it as an Achilles Heel - something that can be readily exploited by an enemy or a means that can be manipulated for one's own needs.

The teenager bowed low as an outward sign of respect.

"I need your help, sir" Snotlout meekly said. All sense of arrogance departed from his voice.

The Jorgenson patriarch arched his brow when he saw his son, finding the visit quite unexpected. He paused from perusing the latest news on his electronic tablet and regarded the teenager with an unnerving stare. A few minutes passed by as they silently studied one another. Snotlout broke eye contact first, shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he spoke once again.

"I need to get rid of someone from school," he continued on, "I want him exiled just like what we did before with…"

"I don't have time to cater to your immature whims," Spitelout promptly cut off his son's diatribe. "Your uncle is still resisting all effort to establish your position as crown prince. I have no interest in dealing with your teenage delusions when I have more important matters to take care of."

"But I need your help," Snotlout outright whined, "I'm sure Uncle Stoick already knows that I'm the only possible candidate. He has no sons, no blood heirs."

"Foolish child," the older man rolled his eyes, "That kind of simple thinking can lead us to ruin."

The teenager visibly bristled in irritation. "I am not a child. I will be turning into an adult sometime this year."

"Then act like it," his father countered snidely.

The lack of interest in his situation irked his sensibilities. Pursing his lips, Snotlout tried to keep his emotions in check yet he could already feel his patience dwindle with every second that ran past. The more he tried to converse with his father the more it felt like forcefully pulling teeth out of his gums.

"Just help me out," he insisted, "We don't have to worry about me becoming the crown prince. They have no other choice but to choose me!"

Spitelout glared at his son. "Nothing is for certain," he said, "Not until we have procured a written Royal Decree as proof of agreement. Nothing is more important than securing our family's future."

"I don't care about that!" Snotlout cried out in a sudden burst of frustration. He stomped his foot petulantly, hating not able to get what he wanted right away. "Right now, all I care about is that someone is trying to steal my princess from me and you won't even help me!"

Snotlout winced right after, immediately regretting what he had done the moment he saw his father's murderous expression. His body froze as fear gripped him, knowing he would pay dearly for his insolent behavior. Spitelout set the electronic tablet on the surface of his desk and calmly rose from his seat and approached his target. The boy squeezed his eyes shut when he felt the sharp sting of pain on his cheek. The older man raised his other hand and slapped his son once more.

"What did I say about treating me with disrespect?" Spitelout roared with barely restrained rage. Strong fingers gripped the front of his son's collared shirt and he shook the boy's body until the teenager trembled before him in fear.

Snotlout's knees wobbled when his father let him go. He bent his head, avoiding his father's gaze. "I'm sorry, sir," he mumbled timidly, "I just don't want to lose my princess..."

He felt so weary, so frustrated of Astrid's avoidance and her refusal to appreciate his efforts to capture her heart. It did not matter how many times he tried to invite her to his exclusive parties, or how he tried to impress her with his wealth and physical prowess. She would always keep her distance, shying away from his presence, and never reciprocating his feelings even when he acted so blatant about it.

Sometimes he wondered what he specifically had done wrong…

Other females in the kingdom clamored for his attention. He just had to smirk, to wave his hand, and they would flock around him like buzzing bees. They would flirt, batting their pretty eyes and smile with reddened cheeks. They treated him with the respect he deserved. It didn't matter how young or old. The young women always see him as a potential mate and the older motherly figures wanted him to marry their daughters.

Marrying a Jorgenson would always be seen as a great privilege.

Yet none of them intrigued him beyond a passing fancy. None of them captured his heart like Astrid Hofferson.

"Look at me, boy," Spitelout commanded.

Snotlout forced himself to look into his father's eyes. He forcefully pushed his fear of the man aside.

"If all my plans push through, then the Hofferson heiress already has no choice but to marry into our family," Spitelout assured him with a predatory smile, "If you cannot secure the girl's affections then that is a problem that you need to solve on your own."

The feeling of frustration in his heart abated. Snotlout sighed in relief, knowing how efficiently his father operated. If a Jorgenson wanted something to be done, then nothing can stop him from attaining his goal.

"I will make her mine," he promised with burning passion, "but I still want that guy from school exiled from Berk."

The Jorgenson patriarch sat himself on the edge of his desk. Crossing his arms, Spitelout's grey eyes narrowed on his son. "Very well, then I will test you."

"I don't understand…" Snotlout knotted his brows in confusion. His father usually planned everything, doing whatever was needed in destroying their family's adversaries. Spitelout was well known to be ruthless and quite savage in the way he operates, but no one could claim that he was not efficient in what he does.

"I will give you the tools and the contacts you need in order to do as you wish, but you will be the one to plan and execute everything. I will not help you beyond that. If you want to ruin the life of this classmate of yours, then you should be the one to plot his demise."

"Well, I can do that…" Snotlout smirked. They already did it once before. He already knew the first step to take.

-o-0-o-

"We're here, Yer Royal Highness!" Mulch cheerfully announced. The guard's good hand quickly pulled at the handbrake, parking their beat up car next to the sidewalk. Hiccup peeked through the car's glass windows, studying the shops lining the paved street.

Le Petit Café was located at the corner 5th street, just a block away from his temporary abode at the top of Thorston Towers. Everything looked sleek and obviously reeked of money. He counted at least five designer clothing stores and some specialty shops showcasing a variety of expensive wares. The café stood out from the rest with its Art Nouveau theme. Colorful stained glass art set into double doors decorated the entrance way. An olive green, carved, wooden sign with white lettering showed off its name.

Bucket opened the side door, waiting for the young prince to step out to the sidewalk. Hiccup held on to an umbrella and used it as a temporary crutch. He couldn't help but limp a bit as he walked. The bruises on his stump still pained him even if the nurse already treated it a medicinal cream and wrapped it up in bandages.

"You can leave me here for an hour and a half or two if you want," Hiccup suggested, "I can text you or Mulch what time to pick me up. You really don't have to wait on me."

Bucket wrung his hands with worry, "We can't let yah walk around on yer own, sire. Yer father told us tah protect yah at all cost."

Hiccup twisted his lips into a frown. He appreciated their concern but sometimes it felt annoying to have them watch his every move. The only time Bucket and Mulch would leave him to his own devices was when they left him within the safety of the institute. Knowing that they were just doing their job did not abate his yearning to be left alone with his friends. Like any sane teenager, he craved independence and the freedom to be able to do whatever he wanted.

"No one else knows that I'm my father's son," Hiccup debated, "Most people would probably think that I'm just a normal citizen anyway. You don't need to protect me all the time. Besides, you've been teaching me how to defend myself." Bit by bit he steadily improved his Martial Arts skills though he would consider himself a novice. Still, he learned a lot about dodging and when and where to make a precise strike.

The guards looked at one another, their unease obvious on their facial expressions.

"Come on, I'll be fine," Hiccup goaded in assurance, "At least let me have a social life. It's not healthy for a teenager like me to be around adults all the time."

Mulch sighed and waved his hand, motioning to his fellow guard to get back inside their vehicle. Both men gave their prince exasperated frowns, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of shirking their most important duty.

Bucket rolled down the side window. "We'll inform yer father and yer Uncle Gobber. They won't be happy but we'll let yah have one hour alone."

"Two hours," Hiccup bartered, "I find sixty minutes a bit too short."

"One and a half," The blond guard gave Hiccup a stern look.

"We'll be back until then," Mulch added as he started the engine once again. It revved up as his foot pushed against the gas pedal. The guard turned the steering wheel and the vehicle started to move towards the outer street lane.

Hiccup grinned and punched his hand in the air in victory when they drove away.

A little bell tinkled when he pushed through the entrance way of the café. His nose caught a whiff of freshly brewed coffee and the pleasant scent of buttered sugar bread. Looking around, Hiccup appreciated its brightly lit interiors. The theme carried over inside with its ornaments and displayed art. Bronze metal tables and chairs interspersed with a few private booths created a comfortable atmosphere. A glass pastry case showcased a variety of baked goods and sandwiches. The antique brass cash register on the counter just added to its vintage flair.

The place looked quaint yet exuded elegance and wealth - a far cry from a local Starbucks hell hole.

For a moment he scanned the occupied tables, looking out for his new friends. His heart soared with happiness when he saw Astrid and Fishlegs' blonde heads at the far end of the room. It piqued his interest that they seemed to be conversing quite enthusiastically with one another. Hiccup couldn't help but walk a little bit faster than normal towards their private booth. The pain he felt in his aching stump temporarily forgotten.

"Hiccup!" Fishlegs' blue eyes brightened as he waved enthusiastically to the newcomer.

"Hey," Astrid patted her hand at the empty chair beside her seat. Her cheeks tinged pink as she played with the end of her braid. "I'm glad you made it."

Hiccup grinned when he seated himself beside her. "What did I miss?"

"Not much," she said, "We haven't ordered anything yet and Fishlegs here was showing me pictures of his princess." Astrid pointed at the expensive looking mobile phone lying on the table's surface. Hiccup picked it up and smiled appreciatively at the female Gronkle shown on the screen. Its tongue lolled from its smiling mouth.

"Father promised to gift me a dragon for my coming of age celebration," Fishlegs informed them, "He told me I could pick any dragon from our Gronkle Iron Farm. She's as old as me and quite pretty. I'm so excited!"

Hiccup blinked, "You own a Gronkle Iron Farm?"

Fishlegs nodded his head in affirmation. "House Ingermen excels in the field of mining precious metals and minerals. We used to trade mainly with gold and silver, but my family's wealth has grown immensely from mass producing Gronkle Iron over the years."

"Hey, you okay?" Astrid asked when she noticed Hiccup's disapproving frown. The auburn haired boy sighed and ran his fingers through his unruly hair.

Dragons can be easily abused by their owners. It's one of the main reasons why only those who can afford the expensive fees were the ones truly allowed to keep the reptiles as pets. Even then, the potential owner's character background needed to be vetted thoroughly. Yearly inspections must be initiated by the local Sanctuary to assure that the dragon would be well taken care of.

"I'm just uncomfortable with the idea of it," Hiccup clearly admitted, "I'm sorry Fish, it's just that I've seen a lot of farms mistreat their dragons. I hope your family is taking care of your Gronkles well."

Instead of being angry, Fishlegs smiled. "No worries. I'm glad you brought that up." he said, "My family follows all the protocols and pass our yearly inspections. Our farm is one of the highest rated stables in the country and we make sure to take care of our dragons. They're quite spoilt if you think about it."

The Ingerman heir retrieved his mobile phone and quickly scanned his image gallery to show his friends a photo of the stables. A dozen Gronkles looked happy as a clam dozing in their clean and comfortable environment, the contentment on their faces quite evident.

"So do you already have a name for your dragon?" Astrid inquired.

"I named her Meatlug," Fishlegs eyes brightened up and looked totally smitten. "I'm so excited to learn how to fly her…" He paused for a moment as if he realized something important then looked at Hiccup in a pleading manner, "Can you teach me how to fly?"

Hiccup raised his hands up. "Okay, slow down. I'm not really qualified to do that - yet."

"But you can still teach us how to fly dragons," Astrid smirked, "I've seen how you tamed that Monstrous Nightmare. You're loads better than that Drago Bludvist guy or even Mr. Hoark. Why don't you give me and Fish some private tutoring lessons?"

Hiccup stared at her in disbelief, "I can't because it's against the law."

Trainers and Owners needed to apply for certification for a reason. Flight Training must be done according to the Global Draconic Guidelines. Hiccup knew he would be in deep trouble if he was ever caught in the act of teaching minors without a license.

The thought of being caught red handed by the government rattled him. He knew of the dire consequences he could face. It could blacklist him, barring him from studying Dragonology from any reputable university and ultimately destroying his lifelong dream. Yet a part of him still couldn't help but feel excited by the prospect. He needed to be around dragons. It felt unnatural for him to go on for several weeks without seeing one.

"The authorities won't know of our plans unless someone squeals it to them," she narrowed her eyes on her two male friends, "I'm sure you won't tattle on us eh, Fish?"

Fishlegs shook his head fervently. "I won't. I promise I won't. So can you teach us?" He regarded Hiccup again with such fervent hope in his big blue eyes.

"I don't know…" Hiccup worried his lip. It sounded appealing but he knew all too well that his mother would disapprove such recklessness. "We can just wait to learn about flight in our Basic Dragon Training Class," he said diplomatically, "I'm sure Mr. Hoark will be an adequate teacher…"

Astrid sighed and pouted her lips, looking absolutely disappointed, "But if we wait that long we won't be ready to join any of the races this year. I've been waiting my whole life to be the Champion of the Race. Now I can't achieve that dream if you won't teach me."

That simple word caught Hiccup's interest. His brow arched high, "What races?"

Astrid's eyes gleamed and she grinned maniacally. "I forgot that you're a stranger our Berkian ways," she said with a smirk, "Let us introduce to you the most important Berkian tradition there is since the dawn of our kingdom…"

Fishlegs rubbed his hands in delight and took out a flyer from his bag. He placed it on the tabletop and pushed it towards Hiccup. Forest green eyes widened in interest as he read the headline printed on the glossy paper.

 _ **The Thawfest Dragon Races.**_

The flyer showcased a picture of a race course. Instead of race cars or motorcycles, the riders mounted on dragons. Each reptile had colorful designs painted on their snouts and on the surface of their wings. The participants wore costumes that reminded him of Vikings from an era long past, complete with horned helmets, tunics, and bear fur vests. He flipped the flyer. The back part showed the rules in participating in the races.

Hiccup's jaw dropped open, feeling stunned and intrigued that such a competition existed without him having any prior knowledge about it. For most of his life, he'd traveled to different countries around the world, yet he'd never heard about such a wonderful event. In a way it made sense. His mother actively chose to avoid bringing their family anywhere near Berk or the northern lands. He used to question that decision, but now he knew the reason why.

His body thrummed when he felt the adrenaline rush of excitement, then his noticed his friends' pleased twin grins.

"You two have been colluding on this, haven't you?" Hiccup narrowed his eyes when their grins just got wider.

"Maybe we were," Astrid's cheeks dimpled with her confession, "but I'm sure we've caught your interest too…"

"There are different kinds of competitions during the Thawfest celebrations," Fishlegs explained, "The Weapons Challenge would be a contest for the use of popular ancient weapons that's to unique to Berk, but the Dragon Races… That's the one the whole kingdom looks forward to the most."

"Anyone can join as long as they're of age and if they pass the tryouts." Astrid told them, "I'll no longer be a minor this year. I want to take the chance to join this season's Thawfest rather than wait another year to do so."

"I want to join too," Fishlegs admitted as he twiddled his thumbs, "It's considered a great honor to join the races. I know we probably won't have much of a chance to get in and win the trophy, but I still want to try."

"So you both need my help?" Hiccup asked.

She nodded her head as her eyes sparked with determination. "Uncle Finn promised to purchase a dragon as a Snoggletog gift. I want to be ahead of our peers and I'll be damned if Snotlout gets in ahead of me. And maybe you can join too…"

Hiccup's fingers twitched at the thought and he could feel himself brimming with excitement. He wanted the chance to show off his and Toothless' skills and this might be it. Letting his imagination go wild, he could almost see himself gliding through the race course with his dragon. Imagined leaving everyone in the dust, winning a trophy, and acquiring that sweet prize money. The cogs in his mind turned and he knew he could already design the outfit he could wear during the races. A lot of leather will be used and he could craft a mask to hide his identity just in case…

He didn't know if his father would approve of him joining this public activity. His dad sternly insisted that his identity must be kept a secret. No one will know about him if he hid his face behind a mask. If he did that then maybe he will have a chance to do whatever he wished.

"We only have two months to practice for the tryouts," Fishlegs said as he rested his chin on his hands. "If my calculations are correct, we'll have a higher probability of getting in if we start to learn now. Astrid and I agreed to use Meatlug for practice flights. We can visit her on the farm and I can ask the helpers in our stables to keep things quiet from my dad. "

"We'll do that until I get my own dragon," she added, "though I'm not sure what species to choose from. I'll probably visit the local Dragon Sanctuary to see what they have available for adoption."

Hiccup looked at their determined faces and sighed in defeat.

"We have to be careful about this," he gravely cautioned, "I can't risk my dream to become a Dragon Trainer. No one should know about our private lessons."

"Well then," the girl raised her hand and waved her little finger, "Let's seal the deal with a pinkie swear."

"Astrid!" Fishlegs gasped, "That's such a kid thing to do!"

"No one breaks a pinkie promise, Fish. Now are you in or not?" She crossed her arms and tried to look stern. "We need to convince Hiccup that we're serious about keeping everything hidden and the best way to do that is to make an unbreakable vow."

"I'm already sure you're quite serious," Hiccup grinned and held up his pinky. He found it really cute that she took it so over the top. Secretly, he wanted to take a picture of Astrid pouting her lips like a little kid.

The Ingermen heir's shoulders slumped in defeat and he hesitantly held up his little finger as well. They all entwined their fingers together and shook it twice. Astrid looked really pleased while the husky boy looked absolutely embarrassed.

"Can you share more stories about dragons?" Fishlegs asked. "I want to know more about your experiences. It's so cool that you grew up with them."

"And I want to know more about your mom," Astrid said, "I think it's cool that she's a female Dragon Master since it's a mostly male dominated field."

Hiccup often wondered how it felt to have a group of his own, to be surrounded by people who were interested in knowing who he was and what he liked. Friends whom he could joke around with and have a discussion about everything under the sun. Now that he had Fishlegs and Astrid by his side, he felt content. Setting his elbows on top of the table's surface, Hiccup leaned forward and began his tale.

"Let me tell you about one very special dragon..."

-o-0-o-

"We'll be approaching Hofferson Manor soon, Your Majesty…"

Silent Sven shifted the vehicle's gears into neutral, waiting for the estate's massive wrought iron gates to admit them inside. The on-duty security guards opened up the entryway and allowed the commonplace black sedan to pass through. The Royal Advisor usually did not handle such mundane tasks, often opting to relegate it to a palace mandated chauffeur. Even so, he would never shirk his duty. He considered this as an important favor personally requested by the liege himself.

Even from afar, the famous manor house owned by the Hofferson Family could already be perceived. Sprawling lawns and gardens surrounded the lofty building. Its whimsical architecture looked idyllic with its walls painted in hues of blue and white, making the house look like it would fit quite well within a fairy tale. They drove through a long, winding driveway and continued on their journey until they reached the manor's front steps. A blonde man clothed in proper morning dress patiently awaited their arrival.

Lord Finn Hofferson smiled benevolently as his guests got out of their vehicle. He walked towards his liege and bowed low, showing proper respect to the rightful leader to their kingdom.

"Your Majesty, hope you experienced a safe journey."

"Thank you for your concern, Lord Hofferson," Stoick genially replied, "Do not dally. Let us enter your home lest someone recognize who I am."

The king-to-be wore casual clothing; a striped dress shirt, work boots, and a worn pair of jeans. The trucker hat upon his head shielded his eyes from view but it could not hide his massive beard. Stoick considered it a far cry from the clothes he usually wore within the palace grounds. He opted to wear something average, something that would separate him from his true identity.

If their ruse worked, the royal subjects within the palace would most likely think that their leader was still resting within his private quarters. Silent Sven covertly smuggled him out of the palace's back gates, making sure to use a nondescript car with dark tinted glass windows in order to avoid surveillance and unwanted interest. They wanted to avoid trouble. Desiring to evade another dangerous situation similar to what happened to his son.

Silent Sven retrieved an attaché case from the trunk of the vehicle. The king-to-be and his advisor followed the earl as he led them to his private office.

"I've instructed the servants to take the day off," Lord Finn informed them as he barred the door, "We can expect total isolation, Your Majesty, just as you have commanded." He sauntered towards his desk, pulling the wing back chair out and politely offering it to the king-to-be.

"I am indebted to you both," Stoick said gruffly as he settled down on the proffered seat. He removed the trucker cap from his head and set it aside, waiting for Royal Advisor to prepare the documents he needed to sign.

Silent Sven set the attaché case on the surface of the desk. He entered the right combination into built-in lock. A click sounded as it unbolted. The Royal Advisor pulled it wide open revealing the few items hidden inside. There were several stationeries printed with the official Hooligan Coat of Arms, accompanied by a single fountain pen, an ink pad, and the official royal seal. Sven meticulously placed the items before his leader then he bowed his head the moment he finished his task.

"I thank you both for your presence," Stoick told them, "I thank you for answering my call to be my witnesses on this important day."

"It is an honor to do so, Your Majesty," both men replied.

Stoick Haddock smiled gratefully. He considered trust to be a rare commodity, an irreplaceable treasure that cannot be compared. Being a royal meant that he attracted a lot of attention. People often fawned over him, amusing him with vacuous flattery. The king-to-be soon learned that trust must be earned. He'd long proven Silent Sven to be a steadfast assistant, faithfully serving the Haddock family by going through the extra mile.

Lord Finn Hofferson, on the other hand, would be considered a wildcard. The earl would be an untested factor that Stoick needed to gamble with, but he was also someone whom he perceived to be a probable trustworthy ally.

The king-to-be held his breath and picked up the fountain pen with his left hand. He set the inked tip to the stationery, quickly noted the date, and began writing with care. No fault must be allowed. Every word must be accurately written. The well being of his kingdom rested upon this simple document, and with it, the future of his son.

 _ **A ROYAL DECREE ON THE RECOGNITION OF THE RIGHTFUL CROWN PRINCE OF BERK**_

 _ **FIRST,** "I, Stoick The Vast Haddock, rightful King of the Berkian Throne, hereby declares Hiccup Cloud, son of Valka Cloud, as my blood son and lawful heir._

 _I, Stoick the Vast Haddock, expressly claim the paternity of the child in the presence of two witnesses, providing irrefutable proof to such claim."_

 _ **SECOND,** "In the light of following the statutes and traditions of Berk, my son shall now, by ancient law, be known as Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III._

 _As blood son, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III shall be treated with the respect expected of a Crown Prince and will therefore be trained in the ways of royalty."_

 _ **THIRD,** "In the case of my early demise, Hiccup Horrendous III will thereby inherit the crown and throne and be recognized as the rightful King of Berk. He will be wisely counseled by Sir Sven the Silent and Lord Finn, Earl and Patriarch of House Hofferson until he reaches the Age of Majority._

Stoick wrote his full name in print at the bottom of the decree and embellished it with his signature. Then he scrutinized every word he wrote, making sure that he got everything right. When no mistake could be found, he exhaled, and set the pen aside. He presented the document to Lord Finn Hofferson first.

"May you perform your duty well," Stoick the Vast told him.

"It is a great honor to be considered as one of your witnesses, Your Majesty," The earl replied.

Lord Finn studied the document with prudence, carefully re-reading every sentence in an attempt to catch missed mistakes. When none were to be found, he picked the pen up and wrote his signature. He then allowed the Royal Advisor to examine the decree.

It took Sven only a few moments before signing his own name. The howed and advisor presented it back to the king-to-be. Stoick stamped the royal seal on its lower left hand corner and the sealed the significant document within a crisp white envelope. Silent Sven secured it within the attaché case, locking it in along with the pen and royal seal.

Stoick Haddock grinned. It felt as if a large burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He no longer needed to worry about the future of his son.

It was done.

From now on his son would be legally known as Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Crown Prince of Berk.

To be continued…

 **A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I would like to express my thanks to those who leave reviews. Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. I find that it helps me to keep drudging on even when I face that dreaded writer's block.**


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